FORCED INTO DARKNESS by Callidora-Malfoy
by DZAuthor AKA DZMom
Summary: ABANDONED. ARCHIVED. "Miss Weasley, I am sorry that I have to tell you this—and it may come as a terrible shock to you, but due to an ancient but unfortunately still valid Wizarding Law, any unmarried pure-blood wizard can claim to marry you." - original story summary posted by Callidora-Malfoy. I, DZAuthor, have permission to publish this story.
1. I: The Marriage Law

_**Editor's Note**_

_This is an archived version of **Callidora-Malfoy**'s _**Forced into** **Darkness**. _T__hat author deleted the story. I have permission from the author to host this fic under my pen name; I also have permission to grant adoption of the story. I reserve the right to produce my own take on this story in the future, but it will be a separate document. I was a beta reader for chapters 5 - 9 of this story. _

_I have not immediately received a reply to a PM sent to **Mogli the Witch** about permission to adopt that original story idea or to post **Callidora-Malfoy**'s continuation._

_Reviews of the originally posted story are archived on the reviews page. Feel free to leave your review for **Callidora-Malfoy** on this archived story.  
_

___I am in the process of editing the content of the story. Due to the spelling in the original document (_e.g._, "colour," "metres"), I have chosen to edit the story using British punctuation rules, most of which I gleaned from a tutorial on the BBC's website. I am a writer in the USA (which explains why this note follows US punctuation rules), so if you see errors, please offer corrections._

_DZAuthor  
_

- Chapter One last edited December 2, 2012 -

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ORIGINAL STORY DATA  
Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Drama - Ginny W. & Lucius M. - Chapters: 10 [Chapter 10 was an author note.] - Words: 48,472 - Reviews: 261 - Favs: 79 - Follows: 139 - Updated: 11-27-12 - Published: 04-02-11 - id: 6868997_  
_

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THIS STORY WILL NOT BE UPDATED. THIS IS THE "COMPLETE" STORY IN ITS ABANDONED FORM.**  
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**by Callidora-Malfoy**

**Author Note:** Some of you may recognize this story. Mogli the Witch—I bow to her greatness—has kindly given me permission to take over this story rewriting and finish writing it. Only the first two chapters are re-writes. As the original story got only three chapters far, everything after chapter two is completely my own work. Also note that this story is slightly AU.

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_Disclaimer: This entire magical world belongs solely to J.K Rowling. I own nothing._

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**Forced into Darkness **

Chapter One: The Marriage Law

Lucius Malfoy Apparated away from his office at Malfoy Manor, appearing in a darkened clearing just outside the Hogwart's protection boundary. Taking a moment to compose himself, he adjusted his cloak and unwrinkled his slacks, adjusting his appearance to be as immaculate as ever. To be presentable in appearance was a trained and not-forgotten "must" in the life of a Malfoy man.

His calculating gaze fell onto his dark surroundings, surveying the hollow landscape and tall trees with precision. His sharp, silver eyes darted around, immediately finding the cloaked figure that was already waiting for him, a wand at the ready. He saw little of his company, merely an outlined silhouette in the shadows. Greasy dark hair fell into the man's face, strands sticking nearby his most recognizable feature—a scowl.

"Severus." Lucius nodded, his head bobbing in recognition of his old friend, and his hand tightening on his cane as he moved closer to the other man.

"Lucius," the dark-haired man replied, withdrawing his wand in a preparatory manner and raising it towards the gates. After his wand stood briefly in the air, using an elaborate slashing movement, Severus began rapidly whispering a plethora of archaic incantations and spells in order to lower the castle wards, so as to let himself and his fair-haired fellow inside.

A soft hum whistled for a few seconds, an echo invading the large space the men stood in. The sound was as brief as the [appearance of the] metallic golden colour around the castle. Severus was [lifting] several spells that contained the buildings in security. With the fading of the beautiful colours, Severus flicked a glance at Lucius Malfoy and with a tilt of his head beckoned him forwards.

Lucius Malfoy took small, precise steps towards Severus, who pocketed his black-walnut wand, having securely restored the castle's magical protection wards once he had crossed the threshold.

"I presume you're here for the girl?" Severus asked with a side-ways glance at the older Malfoy man, his face without expression.

The two stepped into line with each other as they made towards the front of the old castle. A pause came between them when only footsteps on gravel could be heard, until finally, 'Yes,' Lucius answered as he stepped onto a dandelion. The flower was crushed to cinder-like grains beneath his feet, a yellow circular splotch left to decay behind him.

"She will not receive you well," he replied, giving Lucius a sharp look. The Hogwarts professor looked pensive for a moment. "Neither will the rest of the Weasleys."

"It does not matter. She will have no choice," he replied, his voice smooth. "And I do not care for the other Weasleys. They cannot contest this," he added, his voice now firmer, harsher, as if he was struggling to keep himself composed and have his intentions well received.

He cleared his throat before continuing. "Besides," he added, lowering his voice as if to magnify his purpose, "you know, as well as I know, that it is not long before the Ministry will be crushed under the Dark Lord's rule, and when that happens, all traitors will be tried."

Flicking a glance upwards, Lucius could see the distinctive Entrance Hall only a dozen metres away. The place smelt of brick and boredom, a cage he'd never much enjoyed being in. Returning to the school reminded him of ignorance, an ignorance that Hogwarts students carried like a torch. "She may not thank me, and she will fight, no doubt, but this way she will not end up with a wilted mind in Azkaban. A beautiful face can only go so far until insanity ruins it."

Severus merely nodded at this as they simultaneously ascended the stairs at the front of Hogwarts. There was only a handful of students hanging around when the two men entered. Their eyes stared, slightly fearful, if not completely terrified. Severus Snape was one to be feared in his own right—but the two men seen publicly together represented an unfortunate trouble.

Lucius Malfoy merely raised an eyebrow at the students who were openly gawking at him. He merely rolled his eyes in disdain when a group of some first years, presumably, squealed in horrified terror and pelted away like shot-darts down the hallways. Having heard many stories, Lucius was sure, they were running for their lives.

He smirked at the way his mere presence instilled fear in others. He could just imagine how the others would respond to him walking about Hogwarts Castle. Even more so, he couldn't wait to see the girl's face when he told her.

Severus Snape looked towards Lucius. "I will see you inside," he said before walking towards the Great Hall, his dark cloak billowing behind him.

Lucius Malfoy strolled through the Entrance Hall with firm, decisive steps and sharply pushed open the wooden door, the old hinges straining under the force, which combined to mimic a sound of creaking and age that echoed inside the large room. More gasps were received around him as he entered. Students sat with their mouths dropping and their gazes wandering. With eyes wide, they followed the well-known figure's movements in fear, in awe, and in dread.

Lucius Malfoy in Hogwarts was never something to be taken lightly. The Malfoys were known to be a powerful family, one with strong ties to the dark arts, at that. The fact that the family patriarch was at Hogwarts was enough to silence anyone, in shock. There was only one question running through the minds of each person: why was he here?

Few had seen him in person when he had collected his son Draco at the end of the last school term. He had merely come and had gone, his son in tow, and had left without a trace. Since the last Wizarding War, there had been whisperings that Lucius Malfoy was indeed a Death Eater, but [that fact] had only recently become public knowledge when he was apprehended in the Ministry of Magic only a few months ago. That in itself instilled fright inside the hearts of students galore.

It still had remained unknown how he had managed to avoid wizarding prison. He had been one man of several to be taken away on charges of treason. However, he was the only one to avoid being [incarcerated]. Unfortunately, his fellow comrades had not had the same luck in escaping the Department of Mysteries and had continued without much more luck upon receiving sentencing in Azkaban. It came as no surprise to the wizarding world that Lucius had managed to slither his way out of imprisonment. The man breathed the essence of power. His eyes shot only daggers of courage and emblems of influence. It would have been a terrible folly for any witch or wizard to have forgetten this fact.

It was seven in the evening. Naturally, everyone was seated in the Great Hall, students immersing themselves in the chatter of their friends and causing a raucous as they waited for their evening dinner. So when an infamous Death Eater entered the hall, not only did the smiles and laughter disintegrate, but the food too had not appeared in front of them. For even the professors and the headmaster were struck by confusion.

Hundreds of worried eyes met those of the most feared of Voldemort's men. Velvet robes billowed behind him. The Slytherins looked slightly wary, the sole exception being Draco Malfoy. He remained calm and looked with proud arrogance at his father, a haughty smirk firmly etched upon his handsome face. He'd been expecting his father.

A vast majority of teachers and older students had their wands firmly grasped in their hands, ready to defend the castle at a moment's notice. Those were dangerous times, and Lucius Malfoy was very much a dangerous man who held a legitimate and real threat. For all they knew, Voldemort's armies could have been descending on the castle.

Lucius Malfoy disregarded them—the bumbling children and incompetent teachers were no threat to him—and walked straight to the staff table. The sounds of his cane hitting the ground followed him up to the table, where he was greeted by the Headmaster with a curt nod.

The elderly headmaster smiled genially at the man standing in front of him. "For what do I owe the pleasure, Mr Malfoy?" Dumbledore's tone was light and kind. He spoke in a smoky drone that was soft even when enriched with anger. Any knowing student wouldn't have missed the fact that the usually cheery voice was void of any warmth upon seeing Lucius Malfoy in his castle, or the fact that his smile hadn't quite reached his normally twinkling blue eyes.

Malfoy levelled his gaze to Dumbledore's and sneered, "Headmaster, I trust you already know the reason for my unexpected visit." His cool grey eyes flicked to the Gryffindor table almost imperceptibly before settling back on the imposing figure in front of him. "I am here to claim what is mine by law."

Never losing his expression of polite interest, Dumbledore answered very slowly, "Indeed, I believe that I know. But I would ask you to give up your right."

His answer was immediate and unwavering. "A Malfoy never lets go of what's rightfully his." Lucius Malfoy then smiled as if he was amused and continued in a condescending manner, "As you very well know, Dumbledore." At the staunch look in Dumbledore's eyes, the mocking smile vanished from his face and was replaced by a mask of calm sophistication. "You will call the girl now." His words were hard like stiff ice, and Dumbledore did not miss the warning undertone within them.

Dumbledore sighed, sadness overwhelming him and for once making him feel his many years. Had the law not been involved, the old headmaster would have seen to it that the elder Malfoy had recognized his place in the wizarding world, a coward's place. It was out of his hands now. "Miss Weasley, would you please join us up here?" he asked in a heavy voice, the soft words heard in every corner of the silent hall.

At the Gryffindor table the students were watching the exchange with interest, but at the sound of her name, Ginny Weasley snapped her head in the direction of Dumbledore, who nodded at her. The youngest Weasley shared a momentary look of questioning with her brother and her friends, but their eyes claimed no answers. Ginny stood, and many watched in grave anticipation as the young girl strutted confidently to the staff table.

With only a slight hesitation did she step beside Lucius, all the while feeling the eyes of hundreds of students follow her as she made her ascent. She stilled when she was in front of the headmaster, trying her best to ignore the presence of the man she had grown up to loathe. That man had endangered her life only months before, and she would not wilt as a dead flower beside him. She stood as strongly as any other Gryffindor would have done in her position.

She could feel his cruel grey eyes glaring at her, and she dared to look back at him. His aristocratic, white blonde hair was held back in a neat ponytail, and he was wearing an expensive, tailor-made velvet back cloak. His body was rigid with arrogance, and she could just feel the Gryffindor rage inside of her just while staring upon his attire. She felt the hatred she'd always had for him well up, and it was only the mild presence of Dumbledore metres away that stopped her from raising a wand and jinxing the horrid man, if he could be called that. She turned quickly back to the headmaster.

Dumbledore watched on silently during their wordless interaction, Lucius ignoring her small body next to his, and Ginny shooting daggers with her honey eyes into the man's heart. Dumbledore was curious how [he] would tame her temper in such an extraordinary situation.

Dumbledore sat quietly for a few moments as the older man looked down on the red-haired woman beside him. He looked at her tiny figure and yet felt the presence of someone much larger at his side. Just the same as he looked at her, Ginny responded with a similar glance of confusion, and for one brief moment their eyes met—warm honey-brown eyes met cold silver-grey ones. His intense stare seemed to penetrate into her very mind, and she quickly broke the contact, determined she would never admit how uneasy he had made her feel in those few seconds.

Quelling her unease, she yet again turned her attention to Dumbledore, and a seed of dread was planted in the back of her mind at the sad look in his eyes. "Sir?" Her low voice, full of apprehension, wavered slightly as she spoke. She no longer felt the intensity of courage and rather felt very small instead.

The aged headmaster looked at her poignantly with a sombre expression that was unfamiliar on his face. "Miss Weasley, I trust you know Mr Malfoy."

She flicked a quick look at said man and slowly nodded her head, the earlier feeling of dread beginning to build inside her stomach. "We've met." She smiled grimly as she mentally added: _It only so happens he tried to possess me through that damned diary of his Master.  
_

Dumbledore smiled soothingly, trying to reassure her. He knew exactly what she was thinking about. "Miss Weasley, you are well aware of your family's pure-blood status, yes?" he asked without any preamble.

Again, she nodded her head in assent. It was nothing she was particularly proud of; having that blood [status] shouldn't [have made] any indifference, but she did recall reading her family name in a book which told her as much. In fact [neither] the Weasley [nor] the Prewett lines [had] seen much, if any, Muggle traces. It was rare indeed, but she held no stock in it.

"Miss Weasley, have your parents ever mentioned, by chance, that there is a registry of pure-blood witches?" Dumbledore asked her, his voice soft and kind, more so than usual.

Though she was feeling uneasy about all this, she was more confused than anything else.

[He continued his question]: "And at that, upon showing first signs of being magical, each child is added?"

Ginny Weasley frowned, unsure of where this conversation was leading and how it involved her. She slowly shook her head, her brow furrowed. "No, Sir, I can't say they have," she said just as softly, as her heart began twitching with concern.

Dumbledore rubbed his forehead and sighed heavily. "Miss Weasley, I am sorry that I have to tell you this—and it may come as a terrible shock to you—but due to an ancient but unfortunately still valid wizarding law, any unmarried pure-blood wizard can claim to marry you." His voice was much more calm [than the situation merited], his eyes never mirroring that [subtle] and rather [intense] burning as they stared towards the man that would soon destroy the life of this young witch. A witch, in particular, that held much promise.

Ginny Weasley looked at the now frowning headmaster in anger, the blood draining from her face and her stomach dropping as horror and dread filled every pore of her body at the turn the conversation had taken. At that point, she barely noticed Lucius Malfoy, who had been watching her reaction with interest and now had a pompous smirk firmly plastered to his face.

"No. Professor, this mustn't be possible! You can't let him _claim_ me. It's barbaric!" Ginny yelled with a rage she had never quite contemplated before.

"I know it's unfortunate, Ms Weasley, but it's true," Dumbledore sustained. "In fact, an unmarried pure-blood witch has the legal duty to marry any pure-blood wizard who demands it." Dumbledore's face was a shining mirror of sympathy.

As much as Ginny knew he wanted to stop it, she recognized the look of defeat that told her he could do nothing. Her head was reeling. She could see Dumbledore was still talking, but it felt so far away. Inside her, a small voice cried out, _No!_ over and over again. Her life was spinning out of control before her very eyes. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she barely registered Dumbledore saying, "Miss Weasley, Mr Malfoy's wife died last month, and he is here to take you with him as his new wife."

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[_Note written by the author, not the editor:_]

Thank you, **Somewhere Sky**, for betaing [_sic_] this chapter.

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_**Editor's note**: Thank you for reading this archived, edited chapter of **Callidora-Malfoy**'s story._


	2. II: Taken from Hogwarts

**_Editor's note:_ **_I have permission to archive this chapter by hosting it under my pen name. _

- Chapter Two last edited December 3, 2012 -_  
_

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**by** **Callidora-Malfoy**

_Disclaimer: This entire magical world belongs solely to J.K Rowling. I own nothing._

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**Forced into Darkness**

Chapter Two: Taken [from Hogwarts]

Ginny shuddered. She felt the realisation of what Dumbledore had told her sink in with a new force, which seemed to hit her like a ton of bricks being carelessly dropped on her. "No!" she screamed. Her voice cracked. "Professor, it-it c-can't be true," she said, looking at her teachers, who looked as shocked as she felt. Minerva McGonagall stood up and looked at Lucius Malfoy with disbelief and thinly concealed loathing.

"You cannot be serious, Lord Malfoy. Nobody follows this medieval law any more," she [stated].

Lucius Malfoy fixed a cold glare on the Transfiguration teacher. "Professor, it _is_ a valid law, and it ensures the purity of old bloodlines. I fully intend to act in accordance with this law, as should be expected of any wizard of honour."

Before McGonagall had a chance to reply, Dumbledore interrupted, "I'm afraid I have to agree with my Deputy Headmistress, Lord Malfoy." Dumbledore lowered his gaze and surveyed Lucius Malfoy through his half-moon glasses. "This law hasn't been practised for [a] hundred years, because it is commonly thought of as a barbaric anachronism."

Lucius Malfoy narrowed his eyes in annoyance, his hands clenched at his sides. "I don't think you would dare to deny me my right." He sneered, "After all, I think you may find I am more than accustomed to the art of duelling."

Although his smooth voice never lost its slightly amused lilt, there was no mistaking the harsh tone that made Ginny tremble even more than before. That man was the very same man who had tried to kill her when she had been only eleven. That man was the epitome of evil, the same man who had tried to kill her friends—to kill Harry. That man was cruel and hateful. He had killed and tortured mercilessly.

Dumbledore, ever the diplomat, remained calm. "Lord Malfoy, if it comes to that, I can assure you: you'll find a worthy opponent in me. I am more than capable with a wand." Dumbledore's words, while sounding slightly blithe, had a clear warning directed to Lucius Malfoy.

The teachers and students who sat near enough to hear the verbal battle sat stationary, most of them grasping their wands in stiff grips. Ginny Weasley backed away, her terrified glare on Malfoy. She expected him to attack the Headmaster at any moment.

For a moment the dark wizard stared at Dumbledore with cold fury glittering in his pewter-coloured eyes. The Headmaster held his gaze unflinchingly, his face a stoic mask. But his eyes … they were unrecognisable [compared] to those of the jovial, kind old man Ginny knew him as. They were the eyes of a hardened warrior: cold, determined and dangerous to anyone who dared to oppose him. Ginny had never thought it was possible that the kind-hearted Headmaster could ever look like that; even with the evidence right in front of her, she scarcely believed it.

Then Lucius Malfoy took a step closer to Dumbledore in an almost predatory bearing, gliding with a snake-like elegance. He then smiled. A cold, cruel, taunting smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You are a brave man, Headmaster. Very … _Gryffindor_ of you…." His words dripped in disdain.

Dumbledore, ever the serene headmaster, calmly answered, "Courage has nothing to do with schoolhouses, even if it is one of the major characteristics of the members of the House of the Lion." The tension diminished slightly, but the two men still held each other's gazes, each too proud to look away first.

Ginny was in a haze, her mind still in turmoil. It was all too much. In her haste to move away from the dangerously powerful men, she stumbled and was unable to do anything as her legs gave way. Just as she was about to crumple to the floor, the gaze of the two men fixed on her, and with a cat-like agility Lucius Malfoy had his arms around her waist in an iron-hard grip, steadying her and pulling her to her feet.

He held on to the girl for a few more moments, making sure she was able to stand. Ignoring Dumbledore, Lord Malfoy turned his attentions fully to the distressed, trembling girl beside him. "Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley?"

She nodded her head, not quite trusting herself to speak. She was light-headed and had to fight the feeling that she would faint at any moment. She looked up at him, and he took this as an invitation to come closer. Their bodies almost touched. He bowed his head slightly to her as was the customary address given to a pure-blooded woman by any self-respecting pure-blood-society wizard. "Miss Weasley, I imagine you know my name—Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Lord of Malfoy Manor. It is a great pleasure to meet you again; it has been a long time."

She moved her mouth to open [it]. Her mouth was dry, and she found herself unable to answer. She stared at him like a rabbit would at a snake. He would try to lure her in to strike [her] at the opportune moment, [so] she had to be cautious.

He looked at her and cocked his head to the side, surveying her appearance. Judging her. The intense gaze made her feel slightly uncomfortable, and she felt like she should somehow cover herself up, despite the fact that she was in her school uniform.

Her discomfort increased when he broke out in a victorious smile, a typical arrogant smile, a customary Malfoy smile that she had seen a hundred times on his son Draco. He seemed to be pleased with his choice, finding some semblance of [merit] in what he saw.

She shuddered involuntarily when she saw his cold, silver-grey eyes watching her as if she were something on display in a shop. She noted how his eyes lingered on her black mini-skirt. She now felt she had to agree with what Ron had said—it _did _expose a bit too much of her creamy, white flesh, which Lucius Malfoy seemed to find pleasure in. Her hands snaked down to her skirt, but she shoved back her urge to tug it down. His intense predatory gaze was unnerving, and it made her feel like he was undressing her in front of the entire Great Hall.

He was handsome, in a very aristocratic kind of way—the sleek dangerous beauty of a snake seeking out its dinner. He reached out one hand, and she flinched slightly when he took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb on her soft flesh in a comforting gesture. Once he was sure she had relaxed a little, he gently brought her hand to his lips and placed a surprisingly gentle kiss on it.

Ginny would have thought the gesture romantic if it had been any other man in any other situation, but it was Lucius Malfoy, the man who wanted to make her his new bride. She blushed slightly as his lips lingered on her hand, and she struggled not to pull her hand out of the surprisingly warm one of the intimidating man.

Nobody had ever kissed her hand before, and she couldn't help but feel pleasure at the fact that this aristocratic, sophisticated wizard was treating her like a real woman.

Her face tinged a light cerise colour, and she smiled timidly when he eventually released her hand. Suddenly, she realised that she should at least greet him as well. He had behaved in a courteous way with her, and so she should behave accordingly, no matter who he was, and despite the fact that she wished he wasn't there at all … that she wasn't there.

She coughed faintly and managed a weak "Nice to meet you…", which even she found almost inaudible … and [not] very believable, as it betrayed her fear.

This brought the first real smile to Malfoy's face. He turned around to Dumbledore. "It is always charming to see how unpicked roses begin to blossom with the right care."

The way he said that made Ginny shiver again. She felt like she was drowning. Never had she felt such unease and even fear, not even when Tom Riddle's diary had almost killed her.

The Death Eater flicked a glance at the redhead once more before looking back at the Headmaster. "Headmaster, I will return my fiancée two weeks from now in order to let her finish her education properly. I will not have an uneducated wife." With those words Lord Malfoy nodded curtly in the direction of the staff table. He gripped Ginny's elbow in a steely, vice-like grip, taking her with him.

In a desperate attempt Ginny tried to fight against the stronger wizard's grip and managed to call out to the Headmaster, "Please … Professor!"

Dumbledore only shook his head sadly, looking very tired. "I'm afraid, Miss Weasley … Ginevra … that you don't have a choice. I'm so very sorry."

For the second time that day, she felt her legs turn to jelly, and she stumbled against the tall wizard beside her. If not for his quick reaction with which he caught her—yet again, she would have fallen. He scooped the girl into his arms and carried her away.

She barely registered the faces of the students staring at the unusual pair, and everything she saw seemed to be through a hazy fog. She thought she could hear familiar voices: Ron and Harry screaming. She was sure her brother had yelled something along the lines of "Let go of her, you bloody bastard!", but it was possible she had imagined it.

In front of the [oak doors of the castle's entrance], an ornate carriage stood, which Malfoy opened with a smooth wave of his hand. Entering the carriage, with Ginny still in his arms, he gently laid her down on the plush velvet seating. He retrieved something from the inside pocket of his cloak and force-fed her a few drops of the silvery-gold potion that was contained in the tiny bottle.

It looked harmless, but looks could be deceiving. After a moment of panic in which she thought that he had finally succeeded in killing her, this time with a poison disguised as a harmless potion, she felt herself becoming more and more relaxed, until it was too difficult for her to open her eyes.

A relaxing potion … the realization that he had given her something to relax was the last thing she thought before falling asleep, despite her determination to stay awake.

Then it was all black.

**X**

Back in the Great Hall, turmoil had broken out. Harry had managed to hold Ron back until Malfoy had left, and then Ron had punched him hard into the stomach and started running after his baby-sister and her kidnapper.

But a firm grip on his shoulder held him back, as well as the stern voice of the Headmaster: "Mr Weasley, I want you to stay calm until I have had an opportunity to speak with you. I've already sent an owl to your parents. They will be here shortly."

Neither Ron, nor Harry, nor Hermione had ever seen Dumbledore that worried before. The Headmaster looked almost shocked.

If Ron had been frightened before, he was now frightened to death. "How could you allow Malfoy to take my sister with him?" he asked in a broken voice he barely recognized as his own.

The old Headmaster sighed heavily and replied, "You will learn as soon as your parents arrive. I'll inform you as soon as they are here." And with a reassuring squeeze of Ron's shoulder, he left.

It looked suspiciously like flight.

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_**Editor's note**: Thank you for reading this archived, edited chapter of **Callidora-Malfoy**'s story._

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THIS STORY WILL NOT BE UPDATED.


	3. III: Malfoy Manor

**_Editor's note:_ **_I have permission to archive this chapter by hosting it under my pen name. _

- Chapter Three last edited December 5, 2012 -

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**by** **Callidora-Malfoy**

_Disclaimer: This entire magical world belongs solely to J.K Rowling. I own nothing. _

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**Forced into Darkness**

Chapter Three: Malfoy Manor

Ginny Weasley moaned in her slumber. She flicked her head to the side and snuggled deeper into the bed. She groaned in annoyance and rolled over. There was something digging into her back, and it was bloody well painful.

Slowly, she pulled herself up. Her mind was still thick from sleep, her eyes hazy, and her red hair was splayed haphazardly across her shoulders. Reaching down, her hand went in pursuit of the object of her annoyance. She rolled her eyes when she realised her that it was her wand that had been digging into her back.

It was then that she froze, her senses [having] fully returned. This was not her room.

Her eyes widening, she took in the room around her. She was in a large—no, that was the wrong word to use—huge room. She couldn't help but silently gasp at the obvious splendour of the room; bright blue walls contrasted the smooth ashen colour of the trim. The flooring was a geometric pattern in dark grey and silver, covered with a thick oriental rug. It was beautiful.

A look of worry crossed her face. Where in the name of Merlin was she? And then it all came back to [her] with a force so powerful it nearly knocked her to her knees: dinner in the Great Hall … Lucius Malfoy … marriage … a potion.

Ginny Weasley gulped. The only logical place she could be was Malfoy Manor.

_Oh no!_

Malfoy Manor was not known to be a welcoming place—at least to a Weasley anyway. Nothing good could come of her being there.

She grasped her wand, pulled herself up, and pushed back plush silk covers. The first thing she noticed was that she wasn't wearing her school uniform. She grimaced slightly when she realised someone must have changed her into the white satin nightdress she was currently wearing. She didn't like the thought that Lucius Malfoy had touched her. No … she couldn't let her mind wander to things like _that_. The mere thought of _him_ touching her was distressing.

In the dim light she slipped out of the bed and took small steps towards the window. As her hand touched the smooth velvet of the curtains, she couldn't help but marvel at the quality of them—of everything around her—and the sheer softness of them. She scoffed at the colour of them, dark green._ Damn Slytherins. _Pulling back the curtains, she was met with a pitch black landscape. She had already figured it was late, but she had no idea what day it was. It had been Friday evening when she had been taken, and for all she knew, she could very well have been asleep for a full day. Her instincts kicked in. She had to get out of there.

Tightening her grasp on her wand, she made towards the door with quick footsteps and grasped the door handle. She nearly flinched at how cold the handle was. Cold … just like the people who lived there. Opening the door with strength she didn't know she possessed, she stepped into the hallway.

She paused, taking in the hallway before her. It was long and twisted round, so it seemed endless. Ginny Weasley was young, but she was not naive. She had heard, like everyone else had, the rumours of what was kept at Malfoy Manor. It was well known it was home to an extensive library, one which would surpass the Hogwarts Library in every way, shape and form; but aside from the abundant wealth at the Manor, it was also known to be home to a great number of Dark Artefacts … Dark Magic.

As much as she would enjoy charging down the corridor, demanding to be immediately taken back to Hogwarts, she knew that wouldn't be wise. It was a place [that was] home to Death Eaters. Voldemort was back, and any number of Death Eaters could very well have been staying in the Manor at that moment.

She needed to get out of that place. She was only sixteen, so she was not able to Apparate yet. It was too dark, so she wouldn't be able to fly, meaning the only option was to find a fireplace and use the Floo Network to get to Hogwarts or the Burrow. She didn't actually care which, so long as it wasn't there.

_Lumos._

She gripped her wand tightly, illuminating her pathway, and started to move down the darkened hallway. She somehow felt safer knowing that she still had her wand with her, and she was grateful that whoever had changed her hadn't taken it away from her. Her 7 ¾-inch-long maple wand with unicorn-hair core had helped her in a number of sticky situations in the past, and she hoped it would be enough to help her now.

**X**

At Hogwarts Molly and Arthur Weasley arrived not long after their daughter had left. In fact, they had arrived before they had even received the owl from Dumbledore. Apparently, the Weasley family had been having dinner when Molly Weasley's infamous clock had moved. Everyone had been surprised when Ginny's hand on the clock had moved from "school" to "home". They had spent the next few minutes searching for the youngest of the family, to no avail. They had searched the whole house from top to bottom and only stopped shy of using _a Summoning Charm _to find her. Molly had then Flooed over to Hogwarts, Arthur in tow. She needed a few things to be explained.

Dumbledore was not surprised when he found a furious Molly in his office and a slightly perplexed Arthur trying to calm his wife. Dumbledore had calmly asked the pair to sit and had sent word to Ron Weasley that his parents had arrived. When all three were seated, he explained what had happened. Molly had quickly gone from angry to livid and was all for going to Malfoy Manor to bring back her baby, but as Dumbledore further explained [the situation], she knew she couldn't. As a Prewett, Molly knew all about the Pure-Blood Marriage Law. All pure-blood families knew of it. It still had been used when she had been younger, but she thought it wasn't valid any more. Besides, nobody had used it in recent years_. _Arthur also knew full well of the Law. His family may have been blood traitors, but the Weasleys were pure-bloods, and at one point the Weasleys had been part of the wizarding aristocracy.

Molly and Arthur both knew what this meant, but Ron he had never heard of such a law and couldn't understand why they couldn't get Ginny back. In his mind Ginny was only sixteen, not even of age. So how could she even be allowed to marry? Dumbledore had steadily explained that the legal magical age to marry was sixteen, and while Ginny was not seventeen yet, it would not hinder her in marrying Lucius Malfoy. He had further explained that when Lucius Malfoy had claimed Ginny as his, old magic, which had been long forgotten by most, had connected Lucius to Ginny. That explained why the clock had shown Ginny to be at home when, in fact, she was at Malfoy Manor. Magically, she was practically a Malfoy now. All that needed to take place now was a binding ceremony, linking both Lucius and Ginny together; an actual wedding ceremony and a contract were mere formalities. Binding ceremonies, in all senses of the word, were binding and could never be broken.

Molly and Arthur left slightly shaken. Their beautiful daughter was in the hands of a man who hated their family. These were dangerous times. Voldemort was back, and the Order of the Phoenix was fighting against [him]. [They knew that] Ginny had heard a great number of things, having been constantly surrounded by Order members. [Voldemort's followers would] try to get information out of her. The couple resolved to call the Order for an emergency meeting. Ginny marrying Malfoy would have a lot of repercussions. Ginny was in the snakes' den now. She'd have to be careful.

**X**

As Ginny continued walking down the passage, she had began to panic, her current situation truly unnerving her. She just didn't understand why Lucius Malfoy wanted her. There were plenty of pure-blood girls he could marry. If he wanted a younger wife, there were a great number of unmarried Slytherin girls he could have. It just didn't make any sense to her.

She picked up her pace and walked faster, her bravery increasing. As she neared a window, she glanced outside and noted the first glimmers of dawn in the sky. She'd have to hurry. The inhabitants of the Manor would be awaking soon, and she hoped to be gone by then—before _they_ could stop her.

A sense of freedom filled her as she continued down another empty hallway, making her pulse race. There were many large tapestries and portraits hanging on the large walls, some which were obviously ancestors of the Malfoys, others so intricate and detailed she couldn't even comprehend the cost of them. The walls were a darker colour here, a murky red; it almost looked like blood. The thought shook her.

Turning a corner, she came face-to-face with a hideous stuffed elf. Its large, saucer-like eyes seemed to glare at her, lifeless and large. She needed to get away. In panic she started to run, wanting to be anywhere but with the nasty elf. It looked like things they'd found at Grimmauld Place. She couldn't get the look out of her head, the dead, glazed look. As she ran faster, she started to make more noise, and the portraits, which had thus [far] remained oblivious to her, had started to awaken. Fearing they might alert someone in the Manor about her, she started to run, faster and faster, losing any sense of direction she probably had never had to begin with.

Her mind was in a haze. If she could get out of there, she could get back to the Burrow. Her parents would know what to do. Or the Order, they would be able to figure it out. She wouldn't have to marry Malfoy, and then she'd be safe. She turned her head around. This house was a maze, and she had no idea where she was. Turning the corner, she walked through a doorway at the end of the hallway, pushing open the heavy wooden double doors without a second thought. She jogged down the dark hallway and entered a room at the end of the hall. Her eyes flickered over the room, searching wildly for a fireplace. She paused at how light and airy the room seemed, and then her eyes focussed on a mirror in the centre of the room. It seemed so ethereal, the embodiment of magic, drawing her to it. She moved slowly, her eyes fixed on it—entranced.

Behind the mirror was a transparent white window with curtains pushed back. She moved her hands to her face in an attempt to shield her eyes from the blinding glory of the morning sun. She stepped back slightly, into the shadows on the room, and the sun no longer blinded her. She reached out a hand to the large ornate mirror and stared at her reflection.

_At first all she saw was her reflection: a sixteen-year-old girl still growing into her looks, her bright crimson hair trailing down her face; then the image changed and morphed into an image of a lady, a woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties. Her eyes widened as she realised that the woman was her. She seemed to be in a mansion [accompanied by several others], and her eyes narrowed as she recognised some of the people as Slytherins—as Death Eaters_. _The scene played out to her: the woman—Ginny—was laughing, and she swatted a man on the arm; she then proceeded to kiss the man. _With a jolt Ginny noted the man was none other than Lucius Malfoy.

_The scene quickly changed, and this time she seemed about the same age, but she was at the Burrow. It was Christmas. She recognized all her family. Her brothers seemed to be older, as she was, and there were lots of children around her. She followed her mirror self and was shocked to see her seated next to Malfoy, her hand in his. _She furrowed her eyebrow at the fact that, to her family, it seemed almost normal that Lucius Malfoy was there.

_The image changed once more, and this time she saw a figure wearing a black cloak and a mask. A Death Eater. She watched as the figure removed the mask to reveal a person who she recognised as herself. The woman in the mirror took out her wand, fixed a cold glare on someone at her feet, and shot out a jet of green.  
_

"_No!_" Ginny screamed as she watched what appeared to be an older version of her self kill someone. She blanched as the older woman shot out another flash of green and proceeded to smirk.

_No! No! No!_ This was not her. She would never kill anyone. She recoiled as the Ginny in the mirror killed another and another and another. She tried to move away, but it was as if she was unable to move, like she was being forced to see these images. In her frustration she reached out and punched the mirror, cracking it.

Howling in pain at the dagger-like shards of glass that pierced her skin, she crumpled to the floor. Tears filled her eyes. She curled up on the floor, her blood mingled with her tears. She barely registered the quiet footsteps, which were coming closer. She snapped her head to the door at the sound of the low male voice filtering through the door.

"Ginevra?"

The voice was unmistakable. It was the voice of Lucius Malfoy.

* * *

_**Editor's note**: Thank you for reading this archived, edited chapter of **Callidora-Malfoy**'s story._

* * *

THIS STORY WILL NOT BE UPDATED.


	4. IV: War of Words

_**Editor's note: **I have permission to archive this chapter by hosting it under my pen name.  
_

- _Chapter Four last edited December 6, 2012 -  
_

* * *

**by** **Callidora-Malfoy**

_Disclaimer: This entire magical world belongs solely to J.K Rowling. I own nothing. _

* * *

**Forced into Darkness**

Chapter Four: Wars of Words

Lucius Malfoy entered the room, scooped the red-haired girl in to his arms, securing her in his grip, and carried her towards the doorway. He focussed his sharp, silver eyes on the mirror, which was now reflecting its true glory, looking proudly resplendent and [decorous]; its outward appearance was enough to deceive anyone in what it was capable of revealing. It had magically repaired itself, and the only evidence of what had taken place in the room were the shards of glass on the floor, which were dotted with Ginny's blood.

In one swift movement he had turned around and left the room, muttering a silent locking spell as the door closed.

He walked through the hallway with strong, decisive footsteps and disregarded his curious relatives who were peering out of their frames to see what was going on. They knew all too well what was in that room.

Ginevra still had not spoken to him. When he had picked her up, she had at first tried to push him away, wanting to be anywhere but near him, but she soon had relented and simply sobbed harder. He wasn't quite sure what the Mirror of _Sententia_ had shown her, but it seemed to have shaken her. He'd have to find out what she had seen.

He kept walking, his pace increasing slightly until he reached a dark wooden door; he grasped the handle, which had turned a molten-gold colour at his touch, recognizing the Malfoy blood within him. Resting his hand on the cold metal, he twisted the handle. The door opened with a metallic click to reveal his spacious study.

He moved over towards a dark black chaise lounge, softly setting her down on it. He patiently watched as she slowly opened her eyes and quelled any other tears that threatened to fall from her now red-rimmed eyes. She tilted her head back slightly, looking up and meeting his grey eyes, and again she blinked back tears.

"You're a mess," he stated, looking at her appraisingly.

On that count Ginny would have to agree. She was not a pretty crier, and from what she could see of herself, her nightgown was ripped and there were blood droplets sprinkled all over it. Moving back on to a plush cushion behind her, she whimpered, the glass from the mirror digging into [the palm of her hand]. Tears threatened to fall once again.

Lucius's eyes darted to her sliced arm, and he slipped his wand out from his robes. "Give me your hand."

Ginny eyed the wand wearily, the words he said registering in her mind. They had sounded more like a demand than a request. After a moment she conceded. If he wanted to hurt her or even kill her, he had had plenty of opportunities to do so, but he hadn't. She stretched out her hand, which he took gingerly.

He sat down next to her and ran his wand up and down her arm in one fluid moment; her arm sparkled like diamonds before it subsided to reveal smooth, flawless skin. She marvelled at the quality of the healing spell and the sheer power of it, of Lucius. Any spell she knew would have at best left some scarring.

After a long pause she muttered a quiet "thanks". In other circumstances she would have been more appreciative, but he was the reason she was at the Manor in the first place. In fact she shouldn't have even thanked him.

It was too late to withdraw her gratitude, but she settled with glaring at him.

A smirk tugged at Lucius Malfoy's face at her words and consequent expression.

Another length of silence ensued, and Ginny Weasley took in what appeared to be Lucius Malfoy's study—or at least one of many. The flooring was made of dark wood and was polished to perfection with a thick oriental rug in dark silver and black swirls spread across it. There were also four large stone columns at each corner of the room, obviously there from when the house was originally built. A grand fireplace was directly opposite her on the opposite side of the room, and adjacent to that was a large desk with a high-backed leather chair placed behind it. They matched Lucius's personality perfectly: debonair and proud.

"I suspect you already know that we have several things to discuss, but firstly…" He now looked at her pointedly. "What were you doing in that room?"

She hesitated, thinking of a plausible explanation, for she couldn't very well tell him she had been trying to escape. His face may have [belied] what he was truly capable of, but Ginny Weasley would never forget who this man was.

"I was lost," she answered lamely.

"I see," he answered derisively.

"I should warn you now though that if you try to leave, you will be wasting your time. You were brought to the manor by me, and as lord of the manor, whatever I decree in here goes. The manor is ancient and has its own ways of preventing you from leaving…." He smiled grimly. "Methods, which I am sure you would not want to find out about."

Ginny blanched slightly. He couldn't possibly be serious. _Damn Lucius Malfoy to the deepest darkest depths of hell._

A cold feeling suddenly gripped her, a feeling as if something—or someone—was prying into her mind and delving into her deepest and most secret thoughts. With a jolt she realised Lucius Malfoy was using Legilimency on her. Despite her initial shock she managed to quickly bring up her mental shields and push him out of her mind. After that debacle at the ministry her previous year, when Sirius had lost his life, the Order of the Phoenix had made sure that anyone who was linked in any way with the Order was a sufficient Occlumens. At the time it had been an inconvenience to learn, as it had meant spending extra time with Snape. But now she was glad for the training, because if she had never received it her, mind would not have been sensitive enough to even notice an intrusion.

Lucius's eyes narrowed slightly, but his features remained impassive. The girl was stronger than he had initially thought. A predatory smirk emerged on his face; this would certainly make things more interesting. But first he needed her to answer a few things.

He fixed his gaze onto her, his grey eyes boring in to her. "So, Ginevra…" he purred. His slim fingers had found the exposed flesh on her knees, and with slow, languid movements he hiked his fingers higher and higher until they reached her thigh. He only stopped his ministrations when Ginny hitched in a sharp breath.

"What exactly did you see?" His voice was gentle and low, caressing her, lulling her in to a false sense of security. This was all done in a hope that she would divulge to him what he wanted to know.

Ginny shivered, his voice coiling around her like a snake. She froze at his words, unsure whether he was asking what she had seen in the manor or what she had seen in the mirror. She could feel his penetrating gaze trained on her, and she was positive he meant the latter.

She moved her head up, staring directly at his face. "… Nothing. I-I … I saw nothing." Her eyes fluttered closed, and she barely suppressed a shudder as flashes of what she had seen returned to her. She wished she had never seen those images. Now she would be haunted by what they meant. Was that her future? Was that really the person she would become? She didn't understand it, though. Lucius … her family … Death Eaters … murder. _Urgh!_ It was all too much. She didn't even want to understand it.

Lucius Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at her and smirked, but it was a far cry from friendly or even playful. Lucius Malfoy smirking could only mean bad things. The girl was obviously lying, but no matter, he would find out what he wanted to know. Malfoys _always _got what they wanted.

"That was the North Wing. You are not allowed there or—" he gestured to his study, in which they were currently seated "—here. Unless, of course, I am with you."

In one smooth movement he stood up and moved to the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a generous amount of whiskey and moved so that his back was to her, and so he was directly facing the lit fireplace.

"As mistress of Malfoy Manor, you will be allowed everywhere except these two places. Is that understood?"

She nodded her head tightly before realising he couldn't actually see her. She cleared her throat before saying clearly: "Yes."

He brought his drink up to his lips and took a sip before bringing it back down. Turning it methodically, he watched as the pungent liquid turned in a whirlpool motion with no end, in the crystal glass.

"You would do well to remember that."

Ginny gulped.

She rubbed her eyes, wiping away any tears that were left in her eyes, and idly noted how she had probably cried more in the last few hours than she had the last few years. This wasn't her; she was never the type of girl to cry over anything. She remembered how her mum used to say, '_There's no point crying over spilt milk, Ginny.'_ She hadn't understood it at the time. But she now knew that if something happened that she was powerless to change, then there was no use in crying about it, as that would achieve nothing. Instead, she should find ways to improve the situation she was in and improvise. She wasn't just going to stay silent and take everything as it came along. If Ginny was ever sure of anything, she knew now that she wouldn't just allow people to use her while she sat back. No, no matter what she had seen, her future wasn't set. Her future would be what she made it to be.

She was a Weasley and had grown up with six older brothers, to boot. If she didn't have a backbone, then she was surely a sorry excuse for a Gryffindor. She was Ginny Weasley, and it was high time she started acting like it.

A new sense of courage filling her, she stood up. "Why am I here?" she demanded, her furious red hair trailing behind her.

Slowly Lucius Malfoy turned around and acknowledged her. "I believe you already know the answer to that."

"Why me? You could have any pure-blood girl you wanted.

"Why me? Why a Weasley?" Her voice had been raising steadily, her anger getting the better of her.

He just looked at her, slightly amused by her outburst. He seemed unperturbed by her sudden change in character, going from a scared crying girl to a feisty, angry young woman. Ginevra was certainly _refreshing_; it had been a very long time since anyone had spoken back to him so bluntly.

She stood there hands on hips, waiting for an answer. When the man in front of her didn't respond, she stamped her foot like she used to do when she was a child. "Tell me, _damn it_!"

Lucius Malfoy sneered down at her, his nose curling as he regarded her current behaviour in disdain. "I will answer you when you cease to act like a child and [begin to] act like a woman." She would have to be schooled in such manners. "As a Malfoy, you will be expected to and _will_ act with decorum. As is expected of a Malfoy."

"But that's exactly the problem. I am a child. I'm still at school." Her brandy-coloured eyes stared straight into his grey depths. "Your son is older than me, and you are old enough to be my father…." Her voice cracked. "That can't be right, [can it]? I-I just can't get married."

Lucius took a step closer to her, their bodies almost touching. His answer was immediate. "You are of age to wed, and we _will_ marry."

"How can you be so cold? You just stand there. I mean your wife only just died last week, and here you are, wanting to marry again." She recoiled, moving back away from him until her legs hit the chaise lounge she had previously occupied. "Your wife would be turning in her grave right now."

She knew as soon as she'd said it that it was cold and probably a little rash, but she didn't want to be there. Besides, Malfoy was no saint.

"That is _enough!_" His voice was as cold as ice, and his eyes, murderous. Ginny whimpered when he turned around and threw his glass of whiskey in the fire. It clattered into the burning fire with a resounding smash.

"We will never discuss Narcissa." His tone left no room for any argument.

If Ginny had ever been truly afraid in her life, now was that time. It seemed she had struck a chord, mentioning the late Mrs Malfoy. She swallowed hard. What was in store for her at Malfoy Manor?

**X**

"Ron, come back!" the girl implored as she trailed after the tall, red-haired boy down the seventh floor corridor.

He stopped in his tracks. "No, Hermione." He whirled around so that he was facing her. "I need to be by myself."

She sighed exasperatedly. "You've been moping about all day now. I know you're upset about Ginny, but do you really think this is helping her?" She placed her hand on Ron's shoulder in a soothing gesture.

"She's my sister; I can't just let it go." He shrugged her hand from his shoulder. "You don't understand, Hermione. You have no siblings."

Hermione recoiled like she had been slapped. He knew she had always wanted siblings, but her parents were unable to have any more kids. She gathered up her courage and looked at him, her eyes fierce and ablaze.

"She's like a sister to me too, you know. I know what has happened is awful, but there are other ways to deal with it. Do you really think I like the idea of Ginny being with that monster?"

Ron sighed and rubbed his forehead wearily.

He slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. it's just I hate the thought of her being _there_."

Hermione hesitated for a moment before sighing exasperatedly and proceeded to envelope her arms around her closest friend, "It's alright, Ron. I understand."

"I know I've been acting really shitty..." he trailed off.

"I get it Ron. I understand," she said, cutting him off. "Me and Harry have been in the library trying to find any information on that ludicrous law."

Ron's face lit up, his bright blue eyes hopeful. "Did you find anything?"

"Not yet."

His face fell.

"But there is always a loop hole in old laws like that. You see, old pure-blood families always made sure that there was a 'get out of jail' card, so to speak."

Ron looked at her. "So a way to weasel out of the law."

Hermione nodded, a small smile on her face. "Well yes, essentially, but the problem is finding the loophole."

Ron mirrored her smile. "Why didn't you say so sooner? Ginny is a Weasley after all. That's what we do best. We should contact the twins."

**X**

"Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater! Have you all forgotten who we are dealing with? We cannot leave Ginny there!" stated the angry young Auror, her hair a vivid shade of red, clearly representing her feelings.

Moody looked at the angry woman and sighed. "We have to be careful, Nymphadora—"

If at all possible, the hair of the Auror became an even darker, more explosive shade of red. "Don't call me Nymphadora," bit out the usually friendly Auror whose eyes were now narrowed at her mentor.

Moody sighed heavily before his gruff voice filtered through the door once more, "We _all_ have to be careful." He looked pointedly at Tonks. "Malfoy taking Ginny means that Voldemort has a plan on the horizon, which involves both of them." He glanced around the room now, addressing each of the Order members who were seated in the dreary drawing room of Grimmauld Place, "Is there any way to stop the marriage?"

Kingsley answered, "No. I'm afraid not. The law uses old magic, which cannot be undone. It is a binding law, and Lucius Malfoy and Ginny Weasley were bound together when he laid claim to her. It cannot be undone."

A silence descended on the room. Molly Weasley who had been choking back tears leaned in to her husband's comforting arms.

Arthur looked around the room a grim look on his face. "He's right. Dumbledore told us the same thing when we spoke to him. We cannot do anything about it." The sound of the Weasley patriarch's heart breaking could be heard throughout the room.

The eldest Weasley son was seated across from his parents and looked like he wanted to hurt someone—hurt someone very badly—and that someone was Lucius Malfoy. "So Ginny has no choice in this whatsoever?"

Kingsley shook his head sadly.

"That's not good enough!" Bill shouted. "We have to do something; we can break into the Manor and bring her back…."

Moody spoke this time. "No. What good would that do? It would be extremely difficult to get into Malfoy Manor in the first place, and then even if we did get her back, Lucius Malfoy took her once unchallenged. Who's to say he wouldn't do so again?"

Tonks sighed in frustration. "We have to do something. The Order of the Phoenix has known—or rather guessed—for some time that many high-ranking Death Eaters are hiding out at the Manor. We cannot leave Ginny at their mercy. They could very well be torturing her right now. We all know how they feel about blood traitors."

"Tonks." The man seated beside her gently grabbed her arm. She pulled away from him.

"No, Remus. What I am saying is the truth. I know what these people are capable, more than most. After all," she added derisively, "they are my family."

She continued, "To them, blood traitors are the scum of the earth. They would not hesitate to hurt her. We have to get her out of there."

The room grew still again, each contemplating Tonks' words and the situation they were faced with.

Hestia Jones who had thus far remained silent now spoke. "We can go to the Wizengamot. If we take Malfoy to trial, we can argue how Ginny does not want this, how she is much too young and is still in school…."

Moody shook his head. "No, Malfoy has the Ministry in his pocket; the entire Ministry is riddled with deceit. There is no semblance of justice there any more."

Each person pondered the words that had been spoken and tried to think of what could be done.

The sudden shrieking of the portrait of Mrs Black stunned everyone out of their momentary stupor—save for Moody who was always alert. Some in their shock had slipped out their wands.

Moody glanced at the far wall of the room, his magical eye penetrating right through it as if it were only a pane of glass. "Severus," he stated gruffly, " and Fred and George."

The entire room waited in anticipation as the purposeful, firm and decisive footsteps of Severus Snape drew closer. Snape was a gatherer of information. There might have been many in the Order who didn't trust him, but they couldn't deny he always had useful information. What news had he brought?

* * *

_**Editor's note**: Thank you for reading this archived, edited chapter of **Callidora-Malfoy**'s story._

* * *

THIS STORY WILL NOT BE UPDATED.


	5. V: One Side of the Equation

_**Editor's note: **I have permission to archive this chapter by hosting it under my pen name._

- Chapter Five last edited December 14, 2012 -

* * *

**by** **Callidora-Malfoy**

_Disclaimer: This entire magical world belongs solely to J.K Rowling. I own nothing. _

* * *

**Forced into Darkness**

Chapter Five: One Side of the Equation

Draco Malfoy sneered down at the copy of the latest Daily Prophet he had in his hands. The headline read: **_Lucius Malfoy Announces Engagement to Ginny _****_Weasley_**. He huffed at that. His sharp, silver eyes looked below the large image of his father on the cover before he flipped to the Socialite section. He sat down on his bed, his back pressed against the headboard, perusing the article with an analytical attitude, and began reading.

**X**

_In a move which has shocked many, Lucius Malfoy, age 42, Lord of Malfoy Manor and CEO of Malfoy Enterprises, has announced the engagement of himself to the youngest of the Weasley clan: Ginevra Molly, age 16._ _Narcissa Malfoy née Black, __Lord Malfoy's wife of nearly 18 years, died unexpectedly last month at the age of 43. [The late Lady Malfoy] had been suffering from_ Scrofungulus_, a highly contagious and relatively rare infectious disease, which is provoked by an unknown magical super-bug that attacks the immune system, rendering the body defenceless._

_While many have been sending their regards to Lord Malfoy, others are unsure whether he should be receiving their condolences for his loss or their well-wishes for his upcoming wedding. Lord Malfoy thus far has been unavailable for any interviews. As for the blushing bride in question, she has also been unavailable to comment on her relationship with the eldest Malfoy. Numerous sources have said how she was swept away and fell weak at the knees when her fiancé came to claim her at Hogwarts._

_Yes, Readers, you read correctly. Weasley, known by most as Ginny, is a fifth-year student at Hogwarts, but fear not. Fortunately for her, she is of age to get married, and her conjugal bliss will begin as soon as they are wed._

_There have been many rumours surrounding the surprise relationship between the couple, and an inside source told me how the two have been seeing each other for many months now, even while the late Lady Malfoy was ill. I myself am interested to see how this unlikely union will begin, and the reaction of the Weasley family._

**X**

Looking at the by-line, he scoffed; _Rita Skeeter_, it read. It figured. Only she could churn out so much garbage. She would get her comeuppance, though, especially if his father had anything to do with it. You did not just write shit about Lucius Malfoy and get away with it. He'd thought the Skeeter woman had a bit more sense than to mess with his father, but he stood corrected. He almost felt a little sorry for her. _Almost_. After all, this would be the last story she would ever write.

He threw the paper to his bedroom floor without a second thought and stood up, leaving his bedroom to enter the Slytherin common room. The room was empty, save from a few first years and a petite figure sitting on a leather sofa, immersed in a book. He craned his neck to see who it was. Recognizing the strawberry blonde hair of the girl, he made in her direction.

"Daphne."

The girl looked up from her novel, her dark blue eyes staring at him, her expression quizzical. "What's up, Draco?"

"Do you know where Theo and Blaise are?"

Her forehead creased in concentration. "I seem to remember Theo mentioning going to the Quidditch pitch for a bit. He'll probably still be there."

Draco nodded. "Thanks, Daph. Catch you later." He winked at her.

She rolled her eyes, "No problem, Draco."

He made to move but stopped at her voice.

"Oh, when you find Theo, tell him to be back here in an hour." She glanced around the empty room. "The common room will be empty for a few hours, so I wanted to make the most of it," she said, suggestion laced in her words.

He cracked a smile at her. She was one of the few people whom he ever actually showed any emotion in front of. "Will do, Daphne." He walked towards the tunnel, which served as an exit to the room.

"You may be his friend, but I am a jealous woman. Common room in one hour," he heard Daphne call out behind him.

He chuckled lightly, rolling his eyes while he did so. "Got it," he murmured before he walked through the tunnel.

The portrait swung forwards, concealing the common room. He set a steady pace, walking through the dark dungeon corridors. His feet automatically took him in the direction he was headed in, and he barely had to register what hallway he was walking down or which stairway he was taking. Years spent in Hogwarts meant he knew it inside out.

As he walked, he thought about everything that had happened to him in the past few weeks. There was so much that had happened, it was a wonder he was still going. It was only October, but it felt like the summer break had been a lifetime away. Much had occurred that summer with the return of the Dark Lord and the escape of the remaining Death Eaters from Azkaban.

He was under intense pressure, especially with his recent initiation into the fold of the Death Eaters and the task he had been given. So much had been placed on his shoulders—too much. He was in some ways pleased he had a chance to prove himself, but in the back of his mind, he knew that killing Dumbledore was a feat many a great wizard had attempted and had failed. And he also knew that in some way this was a punishment for his father failing to retrieve the prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. For failing _Him_.

Dumbledore was a very powerful wizard. How would Draco kill him? But he was a Malfoy, and as the saying went, "Wherever there is a will, there is a way." In some ways he was glad that the Dark Lord had given him this task. It meant an opportunity to prove himself and to redeem his family.

Their fall from grace had meant that the Malfoys had been kept out of the loop on many a good occasion. It had been especially hard on his aunt, Bella. For many years she had been only second to his father, if not on the same level as his father, in the eyes of the Dark Lord. Their failure to retrieve the prophecy at the Ministry of Magic, foiled—yet again—by Potter, meant that the Dark Lord was severely angered with Lucius and Bellatrix. Draco grimaced; nothing good ever came from being at the [receiving end] of the Dark Lord's wrath.

His mother's death the previous week had been hard on him. His mother was one of the few people he had truly loved, and who always had had his best interests at heart. The official statement released by St Mungo's was that his mother had died from _Scrofungulus. _His hands clenched painfully at his sides. He knew that was far from the truth. He had seen how his father had been unable to meet his eyes, how he had gotten angry at the mention of his mother's name. It was unmistakeable, the look he had seen in his father's eyes: guilt. Lucius Malfoy never had shown emotion to anyone, but for a second Draco had seen that look, a look that had continued to haunt him each night.

He didn't really know what to think about his father marrying the Weasley girl. His father had loved his mother, and Lucius Malfoy never had done anything without purpose. There was some other reason for this marriage, a motive which Draco would find out.

Though, Draco considered, he did despise the Weasleys. They, being a clan of filthy blood traitors, would certainly hate the fact that their youngest and most-treasured would be in the hands of his father. Draco smirked; he would certainly find some entertainment in this situation, especially in riling up the infamous Golden Trio.

He glanced up; looking through a window to his left, he could see the Quidditch pitch in the distance. There were two distinct figures on broomsticks—Firebolts. Yes, they were definitely Theo and Blaise.

Pushing open one of the main doors that led to the grounds, he cast a muffled warming spell on his school cloak. It might not have been quite December yet, but October was as chilly as any winter month.

With longer strides he made in the direction of his closest friends. They hadn't seen him approaching yet, but they had since touched down to the ground and removed themselves from their brooms. He caught the tail end of their conversation, and they noticed him approaching.

"So, Blaise, you have your eye on anyone lately?" Theo asked, a smirk on his face. He nodded his head in acknowledgement of Draco.

Blaise arched a perfectly-shaped dark eyebrow at his fellow Slytherin. "Not really."

Theodore looked at his Italian friend knowingly. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

Sending his friend an annoyed look, Blaise shrugged. "Take it how you like."

Blaise Zabini turned to Draco. "Hey, Draco." He sent Theo a glower before continuing, "It's good you showed up. If you'd have left it another few minutes, I would've cursed Theodore over there into oblivion … despite the little matter of being sent to Azkaban."

Draco raised an eyebrow at Theodore and cocked his head towards Blaise. "What'd you do to piss him off this time?"

Theo placed a hand on his chest in mock shock. "Me?"

When Draco only looked at his friend expectantly, he rolled his eyes. "I was only asking Blaise about girls."

"Figures." Draco shot Blaise a deliberate look. "Blaise always gets a little touchy concerning his love-life."

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "Well, not everyone's a player, _Malfoy_," he bit out.

"Ouch. I'm actually hurt, Zabini," he said, his amusement clear in his voice.

Theo and Draco both laughed as their friend grabbed his Firebolt and stormed off the pitch towards the castle.

"Honestly," Theo started, "anyone would think he prefers the other side of the fence." He said it loud enough for Zabini to hear him. "If you know what I mean," he said wiggling his eyebrows.

They laughed again as Blaise made an annoyed noise and stopped where he was to pull out his wand.

The other two Slytherins made towards their friend. "Put that away, Zabini. We were only kidding," Theo added as they came to a halt in front of him.

Blaise sighed before pocketing his wand and punching Theo in the arm. "Next time, it's worse," he threatened.

The three fell into a synchronised walk as they made back towards the castle. They were old friends. Their banter was never taken too seriously, although they did get kicks out of it.

"I just remembered, Theo." His friends turned towards Draco. "Daph wanted you to meet her in the common room in—" he glanced at the ornate magical wrist watch he'd gotten for his last birthday—"about half an hour."

Theodore nodded at him, a smile on his face at the thought of his beautiful girlfriend.

His expression suddenly changed when he saw who was further down the corridor. "Draco, Blaise, look who's coming." His eyes narrowed in distaste.

Draco looked down the hallway, which had since darkened due to sunset arriving. He smirked cruelly at the sight of three of his peers whom he loathed more than any others.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Saint Potter." He looked derisively at the other two figures trailing behind him. "And his minions," he mocked.

Blaise and Theo laughed.

Three pairs of eyes snapped up at the much-too-familiar voice and narrowed at Draco Malfoy, and the classmates ended the hushed conversation they had been engrossed in. They hadn't previously noticed who they'd been walking towards.

Harry Potter pushed past his enemy, his green eyes shining with challenge. "Leave us alone, Malfoy. We're not in the mood."

"And here I was thinking the evening had gotten a little more interesting."

"Piss off, Malfoy," Potter seethed, his temper starting to rise to Malfoy's bait. Granger's hand reached for Weasley's arm and held it in a comforting gesture.

Draco followed the movement of her hand and fixed his eyes to those of the red-head. "You know, Weasley," he said conversationally, "I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate you cheating on her."

Ron's head snapped up at the accusation. "What on earth are you talking about, Malfoy?"

Draco rolled his eyes and looked pointedly at where Hermione's small hand was on Ron's. "You know. The fact that Granger has been staring at you like some love-sick puppy."

Hermione hurriedly removed her hand; her face blushed a dull pink, confirming Malfoy's suspicions.

"I don't think Brown would appreciate that."

Theo turned to Hermione and mocked puking. "That's actually disgusting, you know. Think of the children." His nose curled in disgust.

He made a lewd gesture to the bushy-haired girl, which in turn caused her cheeks to stain a deep crimson colour.

Draco turned to his friend. "Now that image will be forever burned in my brain. Thanks for that, Theo," he said sarcastically.

A silence descended on the group, the Slytherins still recovering from their amusement, and the Gryffindors lost for words.

Harry fixed his glare on the three Slytherins. "Just shut the hell up, Malfoy!"

"Didn't your parents teach you any manners, Potter?" He considered the emerald-eyed boy for a few moments. "I suppose not."

Harry reached for his wand, but the feminine voice filtering from behind stopped him.

"He's not worth it, Harry…. Let's just go," she implored.

Harry nodded, intending to go back the way they came. They were again stopped by the cool voice of Draco Malfoy.

"How does it feel Weasley?"

"How does what feel, _F__erret_?"

Draco eyes flashed at the reminder before he composed himself, leaning his body against the stone wall and folding his arms in front of him. "Well, you know, the fact that my father is going to be fucking your little sister," he stated matter-of-factly.

Before anyone else could do anything, Weasley had launched himself at Draco. His well-built body knocked the blonde to the ground, and he rained an onslaught of punches on the Slytherin as if punching was going out of fashion.

Despite Weasley's large physique, Draco pushed him off him without much effort and sent him flying backwards with a hasty shield charm. Granger ran over to Weasley and helped him up, while Potter had his wand drawn and pointed at Malfoy.

"You know, Malfoy, you're a bastard," Potter spat, fury resonating in his emerald eyes.

Theodore had pulled Draco up off the floor and he now stood, dusting the dirt off his robes. He looked straight back at Potter, his own wand gripped securely in his capable hands.

"I think you'll find my parents were married when I was conceived." Draco smirked at Potter. "Though I can't say the same about your parents."

Potter glowered at him and raised his wand.

The Slytherin looked down at raven-haired boy condescendingly, his physical height giving him an advantage. "Uh ah, Potter," Draco said in a sing-song voice. "I wouldn't do that," he said as if berating a child.

"You know _nothing _about my parents."

Both teenagers, now only a handful of inches apart, stood staring at each-other unflinchingly. The phoenix-feather- and unicorn-hair-core wands were both pointed at each-other, their owners waiting for the other to make a move.

The meow of a cat drew the attention of both parties. Their reactions were immediate, and all spoke at once.

"Filch," the voices murmured.

Hermione looked to her two friends, slightly worried. "We'd better go."

Ron nodded at her words. Harry also nodded, but continued to stare at Malfoy, neither willing to look away first.

As footsteps drew close, Harry looked at his enemy with ill-concealed loathing. "This isn't over, Malfoy."

Draco just stared back evenly, unaffected by the threat. "Bring it on, Potter. I'll be waiting."

Another meow caused both groups to move. The Slytherins glared at the Gryffindors before making off sharply in the opposite direction. Hermione moved hurriedly, dragging both Harry and Ron in tow as she made back towards the tower.

**X**

"Granger!" yelled the dark-haired boy as he ran to catch up with the girl he was calling. "Hey, wait up, Granger!" he shouted as he stopped next to the bushy-haired girl, breathing heavily.

"What do you want, Zabini?" she asked, looking at the Slytherin suspiciously.

"Damn. You walk fast, Granger."

Sighing exasperatedly, she made to turn and walk away from him, but before she could do so, she was rooted to the spot by the strong hands of Blaise Zabini.

"No, wait."

She stopped and turned to him, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Fine. I'm waiting."

"What is your lot doing about Ginny Weasley?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's none of your business, Zabini. In fact, why don't you go ask your buddy Malfoy? His father is the reason this is all happening."

She looked at his body language; he kept looking down, and his hands were continually clenching and unclenching in agitation. He was hiding his feelings well, but he seemed unsure, possibly even worried.

"What concern is it of yours anyway, Zabini?" Her interest was now sparked.

He stared at her for a full minute before he spoke. "Can I trust you Granger?"

She looked at him, her expression quizzical. "You had better not be messing with me, Zab—"

He cut her off. "I'm not. I need to know if I can trust you not to go running to Weasley or Scarhead."

Her brown eyes glanced at him before she opened her mouth to respond, "That depends on what it is you're telling me."

He sighed in frustration, raking a hand through his dark silken tresses. "It's important."

She considered him for a moment; he was a Slytherin, one of the most notorious, and Malfoy's closest friend, to boot. She didn't have to trust him, but there seemed to be some sincerity in what he wanted to say; besides, there was the fact that she was intrigued in what he could possibly want to divulge to her.

"Yes, you can trust me. I won't tell Harry or Ron … or anyone," she trailed off.

He took out his wand. "Are you willing to stick by your word?"

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second. "I'm not doing an unbreakable vow." She took a step back.

He smirked at her expression. "Calm down, Granger. I'm not asking you to do one," he said before adding almost indiscernibly, "You Gryffs are so damn frigid."

He coughed, composing himself. "Anyway, I'm proposing a simple Truth Spell. That way, I will know if you break our agreement." He looked at her pointedly before carrying on conversationally, "And the good part is no one dies with this spell."

She sighed in relief. "I've read about this spell. Is it the _Veritas_ spell?"

He nodded. "So I take it you know what to do?"

This time Hermione nodded.

They each grasped the others wrist, their arms entwined. Both pointed their wands at the other's hand and muttered, "_Veritas_." A dark blue light emanated and wound around their hands before bursting into a ball of sparks.

They hastily removed their hands from each-other.

"It's done," Blaise noted, wiping his hands on his robes, at which Hermione narrowed her eyes. He faced Hermione. "Okay. Well, to put it bluntly, me and Ginny are dating and have been since about halfway through last year."

Hermione's eyebrows shot to her hairline. _How? What? Why? When? Where?_ were some of the questions running through her mind. She had thought of a number of things he could possibly tell her, but never _that. Ginny and Zabini? It was inconceivable._ _Although_, she mentally added, _they would look good together._

She was pulled out of her reverie by the sound of the smooth voice of said guy. "Listen, I care about her. A lot." He paused. "I may even … love her."

Hermione's eyes widened at that, but she quickly schooled her features. "Why are you telling me this, Zabini?"

"Because I need to know what your Order lot is doing. If you have any plan to stop this crazy marriage. I know what Lucius Malfoy is capable of. Ginny is not safe there."

Briefly getting over her initial shock, Hermione looked at Blaise, the normal, more-focused Hermione coming through. "Do you have any more information about this? What Malfoy is getting out of this?"

He shook his head. "It was a surprise to me as well. Draco already knew, though, but we haven't really spoken about it. Draco doesn't even know that much. All I know is that he mentioned how it had something to do with the Dark Lord."

"It figures. _He's_ always involved." She bit her lip, thinking about what to say. "Zabini, do you know anything about the law? We've been trying to find a loophole, but have had no luck so far."

"No. It's the first I've heard of it as well. Has the Order got a plan?"

She hesitated. "No, we haven't heard from them yet."

Blaise looked at Hermione intensely, and she returned his gaze, her honey-brown eyes on the Slytherin in front of her. His forest-green eyes showed nothing but veracity.

"I can help you, Granger. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep her safe."

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_**Editor's note**: Thank you for reading this archived, edited chapter of **Callidora-Malfoy**'s story._

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THIS STORY WILL NOT BE UPDATED.


	6. VI: The Balance of the Equation

_**Editor's note: **I have permission to archive this chapter by hosting it under my pen name. _

___I had some difficulty with editing the past perfect tense. C__orrections are welcome, especially regarding the use of "-ing" verbs in the past perfect narrative sections._

- Chapter Six last edited December 16, 2012 - _  
_

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**by** **Callidora-Malfoy**

_Disclaimer: This entire magical world belongs solely to J.K Rowling. I own nothing._

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**Forced into Darkness**

Chapter Six: The Balance of the Equation

"You will not lay a single finger on her." The voice of the eldest Malfoy carried throughout the room, his words sharp, daring anyone to defy him.

From the dozen or so people in the room, a few heads looked up in slight confusion. "Her?"

Lucius levelled his eyes at the Death Eater who had spoken, before rolling his eyes. "Yes, Dolohov. My bride-to-be, Ginevra Weasley."

The Death Eater was silent for a moment before his face twisted into a cruel smile. "Weasley," he said, almost tasting the name on his lips as he said it. "Any relation to the Prewett twins?"

Lucius considered him. "Yes, their niece."

The tall man's eyes took on a dark gleam before he chuckled malevolently, the cogs turning in his head. "Excellent."

A dark-haired woman glowered and tilted her head at the tall blonde, in obvious defiance, fire resonating in her dark eyes. "Why do we have to stay away from her, Lucius?" she sneered, taking one step closer to him in challenge. "Are you protecting your little blood traitor?" she mocked.

The other dark-robed figures in the room watched the exchange with thinly disguised interest. The blonde Death Eater glanced in their direction. "Leave," he said, "The meeting is over." With a wave of his hand he lowered the wards in the room. "Now!" he roared when he saw no movement in the room. The harsh cracking sounds that followed marked the sounds of the Death Eaters Apparating out of the manor.

Only those who resided in the Manor remained. Their number included Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange, Dolohov, Rookwood, and of course, Bellatrix [Lestrange].

Lucius stood up from the elaborate head chair he had been seated at and smirked, his silver eyes fixed on his sister-in-law. With smooth, measured steps he slithered towards her like a snake observing its dinner.

He twisted his mouth in a cruel sneer. "You will learn to hold your tongue, Bellatrix." His silver eyes probed the dark-haired woman. "Or I will rip it out." He stared at her levelly.

The female Death Eater was unperturbed. "How dare you, Lucius," she seethed, now only a handful of inches separating her from the silver-haired man.

"Bella," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, "if you do not heed what I have said, you will face the consequences, and I warn you…," he twisted his neck, focussing his penetrating gaze on each Death Eater present, "you will not like them." He chuckled a dark, humourless laugh, at which the rest of the room stayed deathly silent.

His piercing pewter-coloured eyes lingered for a moment on the raven-haired witch who was currently sneering at him, her pale fingers absently stroking her walnut wand, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Lucius continued. "If you defy me, not only will you have to answer to me—" he tilted his head, zoning in on her—"but also to the Dark Lord."

His gaze was now averted from her, but he was fully aware of her every movement. She may have been fast, but he was faster. Besides, it would be folly for her to attack him.

The witch's eyes widened at this new information.

The blonde smirked. "Yes, you understand now."

The witch's eyes narrowed, hovering on him before she reluctantly nodded. Going against Lucius was one thing, but going against the wishes of the Dark Lord was certain death. She would have to bury her personal opinions … _for now_, she added mentally.

"Good," Lucius said, pleased with the acquiescence of Bellatrix. The remaining Death Eaters filtered out of the room, going in their own directions. He stayed behind for a few more minutes, caught up in his own reverie, before shaking the myriad of troubles on his mind away.

The aristocratic man left the now empty room and headed to his study, seating himself on his chair. At a wave of his hand, several stacks of documents appeared atop his desk. With nimble fingers he sorted through the numerous pages, his sharp eyes scanning blue-prints intently, not missing a single detail. After what seemed an age, he leaned back in his leather chair, his body already relaxing into it, his hands automatically coming to his face in an attempt to rub his fatigue away.

"Mira," his authoritative voice called out, the words resonating throughout his office and filtering into the hallway.

There was a slight pause for a few minutes before the sound of hurried footsteps drawing closer to his study was heard. They soon slowed when the door, already slightly ajar, was pushed open, the finely oiled hinges never creaking.

The petite woman entered; her breathing was harsh. "Yes, Lord Malfoy?" she questioned, smoothing down her skirts in an attempt to look slightly more presentable to her intimidating employer.

"Tell Ginevra to be ready for dinner at seven PM sharp."

The young maid nodded, tucking a single wisp of her dark black hair behind her ear, her blue eyes trained on the ground.

"She will find a dress to wear laid out in her bedroom. We will be dining with guests." He dismissed the maid with a wave of his hand and turned his attention back to the documents on his desk.

**X**

Ginny Weasley laid her head back against the silken plush cushion on her four-poster bed and toyed with a single strand of her shiny, long auburn hair. It had been one week since she had been brought to Malfoy Manor.

One whole week.

In that time she hadn't seen much of Lucius Malfoy_._ After he'd given her a tour of the manor and her quarters, he'd either been cooped up in his study or had been out working, only arriving back at the Manor in the early hours of the morning. She'd known that last fact due to the whispering of the maids, whom she had come to view as allies.

He'd set out a few ground rules for her, which he had expected her to follow unquestioningly: they were to have all meals together in the smaller dining room_, _she was to wear what he told her to, and finally, she was to learn proper decorum and etiquette.

In regard to the last 'rule', he'd had one of the house elves place three heavy tomes of _Upper Society Pure-Blood Etiquette_ in her room. She glanced at them where they sat on her dresser, a thin layer of dust already having begun to settle. She simply refused to read them. Just because he had told her to do it did _not_ mean she would. He was in for a surprise if he thought she would blindly do everything he said.

"Git," she muttered to herself hatefully.

Currently Lucius Malfoy was at work. She didn't actually know what he worked as, if she were honest. She knew he was a Hogwarts school governor, and that he was owner and CEO of a company called Malfoy Enterprises, but she had no clue what exactly Malfoy Enterprises actually did. What she did know, though, was that he had a lot of influence at the Ministry. She frowned at that. That fact would make it harder for her to get out of her current … predicament.

Despite hating the fact that she was forcibly detained at Malfoy Manor, she couldn't deny its obvious beauty and splendour. It was a vast maze: the gardens were perfectly manicured and contained some of the rarest plants, the rooms were decorated with no expense spared, and there were a great many ancient heirlooms adorning tables or sitting in classical glass cabinets. It was amazing.

The one thing that had to top it all was the library. She was no Hermione, but the sight of thousands upon thousands of rare manuscripts and one-of-a-kind books—the library was absolutely breathtaking. She could spend hours upon hours there, and more than once she had fallen asleep, curled on the comfy sofa, which was placed next to extensive library's roaring fire.

Getting up from her bed, she resolved to visit the library to get something to read. She shot an evil glance at the etiquette book. No, she would choose what she wanted to read. Slipping her slippers onto her feet, she opened the door and made towards the library, which fortunately for her, was only down the hallway to the right. This meant that she wouldn't get lost on the way. There were so many crevices and rooms and passages that it was so easy to lose any sense of direction; because of that, she always took notice of where she was going so that she would be able to retrace her steps. She didn't ever want a repeat of her first night.

Entering the massive room, she couldn't suppress her gasp as her eyes rested on the winding marble staircase, which she adored so much. It reminded her of the long sweeping staircases that littered all the heated romance stories she had read. She sighed in longing; she had always been a sucker for romance novels. It was probably the notion that every little girl had: to marry prince charming. She had always imagined her wedding and the man she would marry, and … and now that was all gone. Her fate had been decided by some archaic marriage law.

She stood in front of the Romance section—she'd been surprised at first that the Malfoys even had such a section—and after scanning the titles in sight, she climbed up the ladder in search of a good read. As she furrowed her brow in frustration, she saw it. It was only small, but it seemed to be what she was looking for. Reaching up, she huffed in annoyance as her fingers barely grazed its spine; she stood on tiptoe, stretching her hands as far as she could. A small smile crossed her face when her fingers closed around its small spine. Her triumph was short-lived because, before she could even steady herself, she wobbled, losing her balance. She fell backwards onto the thick shaggy rug that was splayed across the glossy wooden floors of the library.

She winced in pain and slowly started to rise, stumbling slightly, still a little dizzy from her fall. Once she had regained her balance, she bent down, lightly picking up the book that she had [selected]. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that another book had fallen as well as the one she had initially chosen. Intrigued, she picked up this book, which had captured her attention, the other book forgotten for the moment. She swept specks of dust to the side, running her hands along its smooth, dark leather cover: _Anthony and Isabella _it read in thin, loopy handwriting.

Propping herself onto a nearby stool, she opened it up. There was a picture of two people: a man and a woman. The images were hand-drawn in dark ink, and despite their lack of colour, she could tell both were very beautiful. The woman had sharp, aristocratic features, and she held herself with both poise and dignity, a striking elegance embedded in her very being. The man, however, had a warm look to him, a kind and loving look that was directed at the woman whom she presumed was Isabella.

Both were entwined in the other's embrace, though modestly rather than provocatively. However, she could somehow tell that they were more than friends; they were lovers. They seemed perfect for each-other. They were each a missing piece to a partner's puzzle.

She turned to the beginning, gently fingering the old parchment, and began to read.

_Isabella was the youngest and most treasured child in the House of Mal Foi. _

She paused. _'Mal Foi', as in Malfoy?_

_The Mal Foi family originated in France and were one of the oldest—if not the oldest—pure-blood lineages, with dark and powerful magic running rife throughout their history. Being the youngest, Isabella was fiercely protected and was never allowed to leave the family's ancestral home alone. She had always been different from the rest of her family: she had been very powerful, as would have been expected from the blood that ran in her veins, but she had always been more in tune with her emotions, more compassionate, weaker. _

Ginny raised an eyebrow at that. Trust the Malfoys to see compassion as a weakness. She turned the page.

_As a child, when her brothers had honed their magical abilities by casting Cruciatus Curse after Cruciatus Curse on animals, she had always watched and had nursed the animals back to health once her siblings had been done with them. Not long after that, it had been discovered that Isabella was an Empath. The Mal Foi line had had its fair share of Seers, Empaths, Alchemists, Veela, and even Vampires, but it had been a few hundred years since a Mal Foi—a female one, at that—had been born with as strong an empathic ability as Isabella had had. That new information had fuelled her family's shelter of her. Though she had loved her family, Isabella had grown tired of having been sheltered from the world and had longed to see beyond the grey stone walls that had shielded her from the atrocities of the world. It so happened that one night that chance had arisen. _

_It had been a hot summer's night, and Isabella had awoken, unable to sleep any longer. She had risen and had walked to her balcony, relishing in the feel of the cold night air that whipped against her humid body and sent pleasant chills down her spine._

_She had spied the forest that was just beyond the walls of the Manor and had sighed, longing to enter such a peaceful place. It was then that an idea had gripped her. One night every year the wards and enchantments surrounding the Manor would wane while they were being reinforced with even stronger protection spells, and it so happened that it had been that exact night. Isabella was a very ambitious and determined woman, and when an idea seized her, she took it in both hands and never let go._

_Instinctively, she had immediately grasped her wand, had slipped on a pair of shoes, and had levitated herself down to the ground, the Veela blood in her making the movement easy. Walking forwards, she'd considered the outer rim of the Manor grounds with slight trepidation before she'd seized enough courage to walk through [the place] where the Manor wards normally would have successfully stopped her proceeding. Despite having been a Mal Foi, her family had never allowed her out alone, and thus the manor barriers had been warded against her leaving any other night._

_Isabella had loved it in the forest. It had been so peaceful and quiet; when amongst the serene greenery, she'd always felt at ease—content. The Empath in her had been tapping into the calm neutrality of the place, having filled her to the core. It had been at that moment that it had happened: a fierce pain had gripped her, causing her to keel over onto the forest floor. It hadn't been her pain, though; someone else had been in terrible pain and danger, and as an Empath she had channelled their pain. The intense feeling had ripped through her body like a jagged knife slicing her flesh. Once she'd managed to stand again, she'd immediately lit her wand and searched the dark forest ground in an attempt to find the source of the agony. Thinking her plight almost futile, she'd almost given up, when suddenly she'd found a man lying on the ground, his clothes ripped to shreds, deep gashes having littered his bloodied limbs, his face a pulpy and scarlet mess. She'd winced immediately, her eyes going wide. But that hadn't deterred her. She'd used every healing spell she'd known, trying to quell the blood loss of the man. It had worked slightly as the wounds had lessened and the pool of blood around him had not increased. _

_Then he had spoken. His breathing had been harsh and he had coughed up some blood. He had set his blue eyes on her, silently thanking her. She'd seen his red hair and had known he was a Weasley, but she wouldn't leave him; Weasley or not, he still had been a human. Besides, she'd never really despised them, as her family had. She had known where he lived and so had Apparated him back to the Weasley Estate; at his indication, whilst still supporting him, she had led him through his home until they'd reached a room she had presumed was his own. She had thanked Merlin she hadn't run into any of the other Weasleys._

_She had stayed there all night, using highly advanced healing spells and vials of potion she had recognised, which had been in his room. It had been the early hours of the morning before he had been able to speak. He still had been weak, but there had been a connection between them instantly. From then on they had met as often as they could, in secret, of course; they had known that because of the opposing family names they held, any association was forbidden __completely_, even by the benevolent Weasley clan. At first they had become friends, the promise of more resting on the horizon, but neither had been willing to take that final step. It hadn't taken long after that for them to fall in love, both finding comfort in the other, like two rays from the same sun. Two people from contrasting families, who ought to have been different in every respect, had fallen completely and irrecoverably in love.

_[So it was that] each time they met, it got increasingly dangerous, and the chance of them being caught was steadily increasing the more frequently they saw one another. Isabella hated lying to her family, but she couldn't deny her feelings for Anthony Weasley any longer. Fearing her family's reaction if she asked for their permission, the young couple married in secret. Neither wanted to leave their lives behind, so they stayed, each keeping their love a secret._

_It had stayed like that for a long while, neither family having noticed a change, but one night it all changed, and the repercussions would prove to be fatal. That night while Isabella's eldest brother Vincent was on a nightly patrol of the manor grounds, he saw a petite figure moving in the shadows, and his interest perked up. _Who on earth was trying to sneak into the manor at this time of the night?_ He moved stealthily closer to the figure, ready to attack at a moment's notice. _

_The shock on his face was evident when the figure glanced backwards. His sister! _Where had she been?_ His eyes narrowed when he saw a single scarlet carnation clutched in her hands. His knuckles tightened painfully; there was only one place those rare flowers were to be found. Why had his little sister been with the blood traitors?_

_Being a Mal Foi, he hadn't confronted her, but instead chose to follow her movements. Two days later in the dead of night, he saw her leave the Manor like a cat slinking away._

_Nobody knows for sure what happened after that, but it resulted in two Weasleys and two Mal Fois dead. The bodies of Anthony and Sebastian Weasley had been found right next to Vincent Mal Foi's body, all three showing signs of dark curses having been used upon them. All bore physical gashes and scars. Isabella, however, was different: she had killed herself with her own wand. Suicide. None knew what had driven the Mal Fois' most beloved child to commit such an act._

_They hadn't known about the marriage until they'd seen the rings on Isabella and Anthony's fingers, their Glamour Charms having faded with their deaths. Both families were not sure what to feel: shock, anger, surprise, regret…. Guilt._

_Their families' hatred for each other had caused this to happen, but what had transpired was unforgivable. Both families had suffered greatly, each having lost two of their own kin, two of their children. So it had been decided a blood feud between the Houses of Mal Foi and Weasley would be entered, and each would be sworn enemies until the magic which had bound the blood feud was sated._

_For the Mal Fois, however, that wasn't enough. So they cursed the Weasleys so that no female witch would be born to their line until the blood feud— _

"Miss Weasley."

Ginny jumped and slammed the book shut as a figure made towards her; she looked slightly flustered as she tried to hide the book.

Smiling when she saw who it was, she released a breath she didn't even know she was holding and stood up. "How many times have I told you, Mira? Call me Ginny."

Mira was a maid at Malfoy Manor. At first Ginny had been slightly wary of her. However, she had soon come to realise that the girl who was only a few years her senior was her ally. Mira was a kind and gentle person, and Ginny couldn't fathom why she worked for Lucius Malfoy. She knew that the girl had a story, but she also knew she wouldn't be privy to that any time soon.

So far she'd not seen hide nor hair of any Death Eaters, and for that she was glad. She knew others resided in the manor but thanked Merlin she'd not had to deal with them as yet.

The girl nodded, a slight smile forming on her lips. "Ginny, Lord Malfoy requests your presence at dinner tonight. He says to be in the dining room at seven PM."

Consulting the large clock in the library, Ginny noted the time. "Exactly six PM." Sighing, she walked closer to the girl. "I may as well get ready now."

The two began a walk in the direction of Ginny's newly acquired room, a comfortable silence descending on them. Each was at ease in the other's presence.

Shooting a glance at the red-head, the maid sighed. "You don't need to look so glum, Ginny. I assure you, the dress Lord Malfoy has chosen for you will be exquisite; he has remarkably excellent taste for a male."

Ginny sighed. "It's not that, Mira. I-I … oh, never mind."

The maid shot Ginny a inquiring look before averting her gaze back to the path in front of her.

"I nearly forgot; Lord Malfoy said you would be dining with guests," Mira said, looking sheepish due to having momentarily forgotten to relay information that Ginny would certainly want to know. If Ginny had to enter the snake pit, the least she could do was to let the poor girl know.

Ginny came to an abrupt halt outside her room, spinning around. "Guests?"

Mira nodded.

"Who?"

Her dark brow creased in thought. "He didn't say." She looked up at the auburn-haired girl. "I presume just the Death E—" she corrected herself hastily—"guests that live here: the Lestrange brothers, Dolohov, Rookwood, and Bellatrix Lestrange." At the last name the maid suddenly turned very serious. "Watch out for the last one, Ginny. She is a nasty piece of work."

Ginny sucked in some air, suddenly feeling very queasy. She knew those names all too well; they had been the ones they'd fought in the Department of Mysteries only a few months ago. She could still feel the blade against her throat where Rabastan Lestrange had held it. All the Death Eaters they'd put in Azkaban had escaped mere weeks after being put in there; she now knew where they had been hiding out.

Noting the distressed look on Ginny's face, Mira decided to change the subject. Pushing open Ginny's door and pulling the red-head along with her inside the room, she retrieved the evening gown from her bed.

Ginny followed Mira hesitantly, her thoughts still elsewhere; however, when she saw what she was to wear, she couldn't help but stare at the ravishing dress in complete awe. The finest lace graced the golden fabric, with embroidery work in pure golden thread covering the bodice.

"It's so beautiful…," she muttered, gently touching the heavily beaded hem.

"It is something, indeed, isn't it?" Mira added as she worked around Ginny, fetching a pair of heeled shoes to match the dress.

"It's just … perfect," Ginny resolved, absorbed in the dress's shape and colour.

"You get used to that word around Lord Malfoy," Mira explained while she laid the petticoat over the seat.

Biting her lip, Ginny looked at the woman. "Why are you so loyal to him?"

The maid hesitated, not answering the question.

"Don't you know what he has done?" Ginny pushed.

"He is my employer. It is not my place to question him," she answered, revealing nothing whatsoever.

"But—"

"Just leave it, Ginny. I know what he is capable of, and I know what he does. I _have_ worked here my entire life. No, I don't like what he does, but if it weren't for him, I'd be dead. You think you know who and what he is, but you don't. I will always be thankful to him for saving my life." Mira turned around before looking back, breathing heavily, the anger now gone from her voice. "Will you be okay getting ready yourself?"

The red-head nodded slowly, still taking in what Mira had revealed. _What did that mean? How had Lucius Malfoy saved Mira's life?_

"I will take my leave now. Be sure to be in the main dining hall in twenty minutes." With that the young woman left the room, her footsteps echoing in the hallway as she went.

Within a few minutes Ginny was dressed and had slipped on the shoes Mira had laid out for her. She sighed. She hadn't meant to anger and upset the maidservant; Mira was the only one whom Ginny felt she could trust, and now she'd screwed that up. _Damn my curiosity._

Grabbing her wand, she curled her hair with a Curling Charm her mother had once taught her and swiftly exited the room. She braced herself for whatever she would face; having dinner with only Lucius was nerve-wracking enough, let alone with a whole table of Death Eaters. She blanched, breathing deeply. With slow steps she made towards the main dining room; she'd never dined in there as yet. During the week she'd been [living at the manor], she'd eaten alone with Lucius Malfoy in the smaller dining room down the hall from the kitchens.

Pushing the door open with trepidation, she took slow, steady steps. Peeking her head around, she tried to quell her panic when she saw the Death Eaters already seated.

She felt like a rabbit hopping unawares right into the lions' den. She gulped. Lucius stood up at her arrival [and crossed the room, offering his arm]. She relaxed slightly in his firm hold. She may have despised this man, but at the moment he was her only safety net, the only one in that room she was sure would not murder her.

Taking her hand gently, he looked at her. "You look ravishing, Ginevra," he whispered in her ear before leading her to the table. "Behave," he added in a voice so low that she barely managed to grasp his word. The veiled threat in his single word was not lost on her.

Lucius pulled the chair next to his backwards, waiting for her to sit down before he took his own seat. _How formal,_ she thought; he'd never done that before.

Sharp eyes had followed her as she had sat down, and she met each and every one of their eyes, showing them she was not afraid of them, before muttering a quick 'hello' when Lucius introduced her to them and them to her. Her eyes lingered on Bellatrix Lestrange; she was the bitch who had murdered Sirius. The witch just grinned manically at her, her black eyes not leaving the red-head. Ginny didn't speak again, but kept rapt attention to what the Death Eaters were talking about; if she could learn anything that would help the Order, then she would try her damn-well hardest to gather as much information as she could.

Fairly content at being ignored, she ate the courses, roast potatoes and vegetables being one of her favourite dishes. She was almost thankful for [the inattention]; she had been certain that they would have leered at her and have made snarky comments. Her happiness ended when one of the Death Eaters addressed her directly.

"So, Ginevra, we meet again."

She looked up at the lecherous sound of Antonin Dolohov's voice.

"I do have to apologise for my behaviour at the Ministry. Those weren't the best circumstances to meet under, but I look forward to getting to know you."

She narrowed her eyes, but she couldn't loose her temper; she settled for a short answer. "Yes, it would have helped if you hadn't been trying to kill me." She smiled sweetly.

The table's occupants, watching the Death Eater-Weasley exchange, were silent after she spoke.

Dolohov smirked. "An unfortunate occurrence. Tell me, how is your mother these days?"

She raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the question, unsure of what was he getting at.

"She's fine," she replied shortly, albeit hesitantly.

The dark eyes of Dolohov met her chocolate depths. "The last time I saw her, she was fighting alongside your uncles … just before I killed them."

Ginny's skin paled, her hands clenching around the knife she had been slicing her potato with. The vegetable fell to her plate with a plunk. She was seated opposite her uncles' murderer.

The man continued, delighting in the reaction he was getting. "I can't take all the credit for it, though; Rodolphus has a great Cruciatus." He smirked evilly. "And I mustn't forget Lucius. He is very proficient when it comes to torture. Spilling pure blood is never something I take pleasure in doing. It is a pity Fabian and Gideon didn't join us. They could have been great."

"Silence, Antonin," Lucius muttered. His hand clamped down on Ginny's arm, almost warning her to stay seated.

"Don't say their names," she said quietly.

"Do you want me to tell you how Fabian begged for mercy before he died? Do you?" Dolohov mocked.

She pushed Lucius's hand off her and stood. "Don't you _ever_ say their names!"

Her voice was like steel, but the Death Eater just grinned, glad that she had risen to his bait.

Her eyes met his, and they stayed that way for a few moments, both sets of eyes fixated on the other. Without another word, she began to walk away from the room, her body reverberating with her anger.

"It's a shame your mother escaped; I would have liked to have wiped out all the disgusting blood traitors," the same voice echoed behind her.

The red-head whipped around, pulled out her wand, and shot the man a nasty Bat-Bogey Hex followed by a Stinging Jinx before she bolted from the room, unmindful of Lucius who was calling her back.

Running up the staircase, she stormed into her chambers, threw herself on her bed, kicking off her heels in the process, and pushed her face into her pillow. _How dare that bastard taunt me about my uncles._ She wiped back angry tears. Because of Dolohov, she had never known her uncles Fabian and Gideon. Her mother missed them greatly; and even though it had been nearly eighteen years since their deaths, she had seen that forlorn look in her mother's eyes every now and then. She couldn't even just imagine the raw pain she would see on the family matriarch when she'd been looking at old photos. She remembered how her mother had once called Fred, 'Fabian'. Fred hadn't been paying much attention, so he hadn't noticed. But Ginny had. Even her mother hadn't realised the mistake. Ginny knew why, though; Fred and George were spit and images of her deceased uncles, in both looks and personality.

She remembered a conversation she'd overhead—well, more like snooped on, since she'd been using Extendable Ears—between Sirius and Remus while she'd been staying at Grimmauld Place last summer. They'd been reminiscing about the Order-of-the-Phoenix olden days of the First Wizarding War; they had recounted the brave people who had lost their lives. Remembering the good times, they'd spoken about Frank and Alice Longbottom, Emmeline Vance, and Lily and James Potter, but Ginny's interest had especially perked up at the mention of her two uncles, Fabian and Gideon Prewett.

Until this very night she'd never known the specifics of their deaths; she'd only heard that they were the bravest brothers the Marauders had known. Both Prewetts had been very powerful wizards, heirs to a vast family fortune, and fierce warriors who would have protected those they loved even at the cost of their own lives. Sirius had recounted how it had taken more than five Death Eaters to take them down.

To be honest, she had never really known much about them; it was a taboo subject in her family, which no-one pushed. However, one night in the past summer, Ginny had popped downstairs to grab a glass of water. She had found her mother in the Burrow kitchen, sobbing hysterically, a Firewhiskey clamped between her hands. She'd never seen her mother so … _broken_ before. It'd been a shock, but she'd immediately gone to find out what was wrong.

Her mother, in her drunken stupor, had told Ginny how, even since she was a child, she'd been so close to her brothers; it was like they were triplets instead of twins. She said how it was like she had permanently lost a part of herself when they were murdered, like losing a limb. Her mother had gotten more hysterical after that and said how she wouldn't be able to survive if she lost any more of her family. She'd almost lost Ginny in her first year at Hogwarts and nearly lost her husband when he was attacked by Voldemort's snake last Christmas; and although it killed her that Percy had turned away from their family, she was at least happy that he was still alive.

"Ginevra," a distinctly female voice called out, pulling her from her troubling thoughts.

Her head snapped up from the pillow and she looked in the direction she'd heard the voice, furrowing her brow when she saw no-one in her room. Pushing herself up from the bed, she looked around wide-eyed, before the soft feminine voice called her name again. At this she hastily snatched up her wand.

Warm, melodic laughter filled the room; following the sound to its source, Ginny looked directly at the wall adjacent to her large four-poster bed. A large portrait hung against the wall. A beautiful witch, who she could have sworn hadn't been there mere seconds ago, adorned the canvas. The witch's long, shimmery blonde hair flowed like a halo around her_—_a molten silver river. Recognition flowed in her immediately.

"_Isabella_?" she gasped, a bit of momentary shock and wonder laced in her voice.

The woman in the portrait nodded her head lightly and beckoned the red-head forward.

Ginny complied with the wishes of the ethereal lady almost immediately, somehow drawn to her beauty. "Your portrait wasn't there before_—_" She had cocked her head to the side, her words uttered haltingly.

"Yes," Isabella interrupted, cutting Ginny off, a light smile on her features. "You see, my portrait only appears before those whom I wish to see." She took in the youngest Weasley with appraising eyes. "I have waited a long time to meet you."

Furrowed brows followed that statement. Ginny stood directly in front of the portrait. Her expression was quizzical. "What do you mean? I've only been here a week…," she trailed off uncertainly.

"No, child. There are things at work that are beyond both of us. It is no mere coincidence that you were brought to Malfoy Manor, nor was it coincidental that you saw those images in the mirror."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up, her shock and surprise clearly evident at the portrait knowing so much more than she should have. She flinched. She would rather not be reminded of those images; the thought of kissing Lucius Malfoy made her sick. And the other images—she would _never_ kill anyone. She shuddered. "How do you know that…?" She left her words hanging, astonished that Isabella knew so much.

"I know of everything that goes on in this manor," she replied, her even tone betraying nothing. "After all, it was once my home. I know all its secrets."

Ginny stepped closer, listening intently to Isabella.

"Things will become clearer in time. Nothing is certain. You are at a cross-road in your life; each decision you make will shape the future. The images you saw are all part of different futures that may come to pass." Isabella blinked. "But that will depend."

"Depend on what?"

The blonde girl smiled benignly. "Why, on you, of course."

"Me?" she asked, slightly perplexed. She shook her head. "I'm nothing special."

The portrait sighed. "You have so much to learn. You, Ginny Weasley, are _very_ special. You are the first female in your family in seven generations, which means the curse my family placed on the Weasleys has finally broken." She met the eyes of the red-head. "The curse was never expected to be lifted, as the ending of the curse marks the ending of the Weasley-Malfoy blood feud. Only the powerful union of a Malfoy to a female Weasley could end the feud." Isabella looked at Ginny pointedly. "And such an alliance will be more powerful than any the world has ever seen before."

Before Ginny could respond the portrait has vanished, leaving no evidence that it had ever been there at all. She was left feeling more confused than ever.

**X**

Snape prepared to enter the room, his head held high. He pulled back the old, wooden door that stood between him and the drawing room where the Order of the Phoenix was in session; upon entering, he raised an eyebrow at the expectant expressions that were mirrored on each of the faces in the room. Snape sighed heavily and sat down. They wanted information, but he came bearing bad tidings.

Fred and George entered behind him, both speaking frantically to one another in hushed whispers but silencing their words as they entered the archaic drawing room. They greeted everyone before sitting in the last remaining empty seats, which were beside their two eldest siblings. Their faces were pictures of solemn concentration_—_a foreign and disturbing sight to see on the Weasley twins.

Moody looked at Snape and nodded his head in the professor's direction. "What news, Severus?"

Snape's sharp black eyes did a once-over of the room, his head nodding in the direction of several people in greeting, before they settled back on Moody. "This arrangement of Ginevra Weasley marrying Malfoy is of the Dark Lord's design."

Molly gasped. The rest of the Order of the Phoenix remained still, their worst fears confirmed.

"It appears that the purpose of the Death Eaters' journey to the Department of Mysteries last year was in order to retrieve two prophecies."

There was a collective gasp from the occupants of the room.

"The first prophecy, as you all know, was destroyed; the second was retrieved before," he sneered before continuing, "Potter arrived, and therefore, prior to the arrival of the Order."

Kingsley Shacklebolt focussed his gaze on the Hogwarts professor. "But Severus, do you know what information this second prophecy contains or whom it concerns?" The Head Auror had a frown on his face, and his body was leaning forwards.

"The information contained in the second prophecy pertains to three individuals: Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy, and Ginevra Weasley. The Dark Lord hasn't revealed much else except that the girl is the key to what he has planned. I informed Professor Dumbledore of this prior to coming here. He suspects that it has to do with the fact that Ginny Weasley is the seventh daughter of a seventh son, and the fact that she is the first female Weasley in seven generations."

The eldest Weasley brother, who had thus far remained quiet, absorbing all the information he could gather, sat up.

Several occupants of the room looked at him in interest, Charlie, who sat next to him, being one of them.

"But what significance does the pattern of sevens have?" Bill asked, his carrot-coloured brow furrowed in thought.

Severus nodded at the question, answering almost immediately. "Seven is the most powerful magical number, and it is Professor Dumbledore's thought that Ginny Weasley [possesses] immense magical power, which Voldemort wants to utilize." He paused, his eyes moving to stare straight at Molly Weasley. "Perhaps as a weapon."

His black eyes remained cold_—_emotionless. "It was no coincidence that Ginny Weasley was given the diary in her first year. She was chosen. The Dark Lord sensed the power within her and what he could do if that power were unleashed."

After Snape had revealed what he had known, the meeting had carried on. Each member present consecutively tried to glean more information from him, but it proved futile as he had revealed all he'd known. Order members left wearily, contemplating what diabolical plan Voldemort was concocting. They had to keep their eyes open. It appeared Voldemort knew more than they did; it seemed he was always ten steps ahead of them.

They all felt uncomfortable, especially Moody. He didn't like that they were so oblivious to events taking place right in front of them—[that they were] so unprepared. Whatever was coming was going to hit them hard, and they were all afraid of [finding out] what that would be.

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_**Editor's note**: Thank you for reading this archived, edited chapter of **Callidora-Malfoy**'s story._

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THIS STORY WILL NOT BE UPDATED.


	7. VII: The Woes of Ginny Weasley

_**Editor's note: **I have permission to archive this chapter by hosting it under my pen name. _

- Chapter Seven last edited December 20, 2012 -

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**by** **Callidora-Malfoy**

_Disclaimer: This entire magical world belongs solely to J.K Rowling. I own nothing._

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**Forced into Darkness**

Chapter Seven: The Woes of Ginny Weasley

_Dear Messrs Fred and George Weasley,_

_I am writing in regard to your recent application to the Ministry for funding of a sum of 20,000 Galleons to invest in your business, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Unfortunately, your business was evaluated by the Office of Financial Wizarding Economics to be of no financial merit or gain, and thus, your application has been rejected._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Nathanial Hopkirk_  
_Department of Finance, Ministry of Magic_

"No financial merit!" Fred seethed, the letter falling to the floor, discarded as if it were no more than a piece of rubbish.

"Rejected?" George muttered, the shock and anger clear on his face.

Fred paced back and forth in frustration, a dark cerise colour seeping into his features in a flush that clearly showed he was beyond pissed. "Did they even read our financial records?" Fred asked no-one in particular.

George narrowed his eyes at this, looking at his twin. "Doubt it, Freddie." He sighed, bringing a hand up to run through his carrot-coloured hair. "If they had—" George began.

"Then they would have clearly seen that we've made a substantial profit in the last year!" Fred finished for his brother.

"Bloody Nathanial Hopkirk," they both muttered hatefully.

Both Weasleys quietened, still taking in the rejection. They needed that cash investment. Their business was profitable, and they did make a good profit, but that just about covered the amount it cost to rent their current premises on Diagon Alley and the flat above. They did have a little bit left over, but that went on normal housekeeping stuff. The tiny bit that was left from that went to Kira, a spunky girl they'd hired to help run their shop when it got too busy.

And busy it did get. Their shop had proven highly popular ever since opening, which is why they couldn't understand the rejection. In the dark times they were currently in, everyone needed some laughter and fun in their lives, and without the 20,000 galleons, they wouldn't be able to develop their new range of products.

The Weasley twins sighed. They didn't need this, not now.

With the threat of Death Eaters and Voldemort ever present, no-one was safe. There were more and more disappearances happening, not all of them reported in the Prophet. The Ministry of Magic was slowly being infiltrated.

And then there was the situation that Ginny was in. Ginny was their favourite sibling—after each one's respective twin, of course—and they hated the fact that she was being forced to marry one of the worst Death Eaters. To top it off, they couldn't believe that the Order could do nothing.

That wasn't good enough.

The blonde bastard had already hurt their little sister once. Badly. They were the ones who had stayed with her all those nights she had woken up in a panic after yet more sleepless nights of nightmares. She would never forget Tom Riddle's cursed diary, nor the scarring images of the Chamber of Secrets.

Ron was too busy playing side-kick to have noticed anything wrong in his sister. But they had always been there. She had only been a first year when it had happened, and the twins knew her experience in the Chamber of Secrets had haunted her ever since. They'd taken it upon themselves to make sure she always had a bottle of Dreamless Sleep Potion while at Hogwarts.

If he hurt her one bit, they would gladly send one Malfoy a surprise gift package from their shop.

"Fred! George!" a female voice called. "I'm getting swamped down here. If you don't get your arses down to the shop floor in ten seconds, I'm going to come up there," the voice threatened.

Fred sent a sly look at George, their troubles temporarily forgotten. "Why don't you just ask her out?"

The other carrot-topped Weasley stopped. "I will," he said, looking at his twin. "I just don't know what she'll say," he said honestly, an uncharacteristic nervousness entering his voice.

Fred rolled his eyes.

It was obvious Kira was as head-over-heels for George as he was for her. The only problem was they were the only ones who couldn't see it.

It was high time he took action. "If you don't ask her out by tonight, then I will."

George's eyes snapped to his brother's, specks of confusion, jealousy and anger all swirling in his blue depths before realisation dawned.

"You can't pretend to be me," he argued.

"We do it often enough, Georgie," he said conspiratorially. She won't be able to tell the difference," he added with a wink.

George raised his hands in exasperation. "Fine." He looked to his now smug twin. "I'll ask her out tonight."

The door flew open, revealing an angry brunette in the doorway. "I said ten seconds. Downstairs, NOW," she roared.

They didn't need telling twice, and before you could say, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," the two wizards were down the stairs and behind the shop counter.

**X**

Ginny Weasley rubbed the salty tears from her pale face and pushed her body up. The previous night had been horrible, the dinner had been a disaster, and she was still seething over the 'conversation' she'd had with Lucius after.

She hated Dolohov. She hated Bellatrix. She hated all the damn Death Eaters. She hated this place. She hated this situation. She hated being helpless. But most of all, she hated Lucius Malfoy.

She had had the whole night to think about it, to get her priorities straight. She had to get out. Now.

No, she didn't have to. She _needed_ to.

She didn't care about the stupid marriage law; she wanted nothing to do with it. She had a choice. Her mother had always told her that women always had a choice. She nodded, her mind already deciding her next course of action. She was choosing to leave; she could care less about any repercussions. They could all burn in fucking hell, for all she cared.

Jumping up with new determination, she snatched her wand, tucking it into her waist band, and began moving down the hallway.

"_Point Me,"_ she muttered as she slipped her wand out, her mind clearly fixed on finding an exit.

Her wand jumped in the opposite direction to the one she usually took, and she followed its pull, making sure to stick to the shadows.

She'd been hoping to find some Floo Powder, but so far all of the fireplaces she'd come across had been devoid of that particular item.

After following her spell for a while, she was brought to a room with a far wall completely made of glass. Light flooded into the room through the windows. She smiled, forming a plan. There was a door that led outside; it was worth a shot. If she could get outside, then she could_—No_. She grimaced. She couldn't Apparate, so there would be no point in that. She discarded the hastily made plan with brutal efficiency.

A movement outside caught her attention, and she stood transfixed. _No way_. She rubbed her eyes. She knew Malfoy Manor was grand and illustrious, but this was taking it to new levels. _No freaking way._ There was a unicorn—no, two—grazing on some shrubbery a short distance away. She nearly laughed out loud in glee.

They were beautiful. They seemed to shimmer with the morning light, at one with nature.

She'd never had a chance to see a unicorn up close before. She walked towards the glass door and pushed down the handle. A sharp burning seized her hand, causing her to pull her hand back in pain. Tears stung at her eyes.

She was about to try again, when a black smoky energy field seized her and hurled her backwards. She flew across the room, her back smashing painfully into the far wall.

_What the hell was that?_

Then with cold remembrance, she remembered the words Lucius Malfoy had said when he'd first brought her to the manor.

_The Manor is ancient and has its own ways of preventing you from leaving_.

She stood up, rubbing her spine. She must have activated some kind of mechanism when she'd tried to leave though the door. She whimpered slightly as she tasted the dull metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

There went any chance of escape.

**X**

Lucius Malfoy stepped into his bedroom and sighed, cracking his neck. Putting away his silver mask and heavy black robes, he retrieved a pair of silken black pyjama bottoms from his large armoire and pushed open the door to his personal bathroom. Smooth black marble greeted his metal eyes. While he had been married to Narcissa, she had had free reign of the rest of the manor, in terms of décor; but when it came to his personal quarters, everything was done exactly to his personal tastes.

With slow steps he entered the spacious shower, turning the water tap on. As the small pellets rained down his lithe body, he couldn't help but think about how easily two people fit in the shower. He smirked at that. It would be a while before he would get a chance to behold Ginevra's innocence in his decadent shower, but it would happen. After all, a Malfoy always got his way.

The girl was strong, yes, but he had other ways in which he was planning to channel that passion of hers_. _More productive ways. Especially that luscious tongue of hers.

He rubbed the dirt off his muscled torso, the dark blood on his body easily washing away into a sticky crimson puddle at his feet. Not his blood, mind you. He'd just come back from a raid on a Muggle village. It had gotten quite messy. Usually, he only went on high profile raids, but due to his recent failures, the Dark Lord was making him lead some of the lesser, inconsequential raids. Not that he minded that much. There was nothing like a good Muggle purge to get the blood pumping, and there was nothing he hated more than Muggles.

He should have been back earlier, but he'd had his own personal 'errand' to run after. No one would miss the bitch.

Relaxing beneath the hot water that was beating down his body, his mind went back to his red-head, who was currently asleep in her chambers. His lower region hardened painfully at the thought of her. He turned the cold tap on.

He had to admit that he liked her. He'd never thought he would; after all, it was the Dark Lord's order for him to marry the girl. But she had fire. She had passion and strength that he hadn't seen in a long time. In fact, he mused, it had been a very long time since someone had really stood up to him. These facts made his situation easier for him; if the Dark Lord had ordered him to marry the Lovegood girl, he would have rather received the Killing Curse than have gone through with it. Marrying Ginevra would not be half as bad as he had first thought, though he wrinkled his nose in disgust at who his new in-laws would be. _Weasleys_, he thought disdainfully, shuddering at the very thought.

He would have to tread carefully, though; Severus had told him that there was a prophecy. He frowned, his face suddenly turning serious. Severus only knew that the prophecy was regarding Lucius Malfoy and Ginevra Weasley. It was rare for Lucius to be unsure of what to expect, but the Dark Lord was being very quiet regarding whatever he had planned. And he _did_ have something planned; Lucius was certain of that. But for now he would have to obey the Dark Lord's wishes; after all, Draco's life depended on it, and he didn't want any more of his family members to pay for his mistakes.

Draco was the single most important person in his life, and he would give his life to keep his son safe. But currently, he had his new fiancée to think about. He knew all about the origins of the Weasley-Malfoy feud and was unsure how, exactly, that would play a part in he and Ginevra's marriage. The Weasleys and Malfoys were the oldest pure-blood lines, dating back further than even the Noble House of Black; their union would mean powerful magic would be stirred.

Which brought his mind back to Ginevra. Again. He turned the metallic handle, cutting off the water supply and stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel from the rail, he dried his body of any dampness with the fluffy, white material before wrapping it around his hips, his upper body still naked. It had been a few days since he'd seen her. He had wanted to spend more time with her, as he'd wanted to lay out a few more ground rules; but he had been unbelievably busy the last few days.

The towel dropped to the ground with a dull thump, leaving his beautifully sculptured pale body on display. In one languid movement he pulled his dark silk bottoms on and exited the bathroom.

He thought about the last time he had spoken to her. It had been right after she had stormed out of the dining room—not before she'd cursed Dolohov, of course. _She had nerve._ A smirk twitched on his lips at that. He had never particularly liked Antonin, anyway.

That behaviour would not be acceptable, though, and it was better for her if she learnt that sooner rather than later. He liked a bit of fire, but her fire needed to be tamed and melded into something that he could control and wield.

He sat down on his large, king-size bed and sighed, thinking back to his conversation with her after her little _display._

_**# Flashback #**_

Dolohov keeled to the floor in pain. Ginevra ran from the room, ignoring his calls for her to return.

The Death Eater on the floor got up, the stinging hex having left angry red marks on his face. He looked severely pissed off.

When Bellatrix caught sight of his face, she cackled. "You've a nice little firecracker there, Lucius," she said suggestively.

Antonin fixed the dark-haired witch with a menacing scowl before looking towards the door. "That little bitch is going to get it now," he snarled, making in the direction of the door.

"Dolohov," a deep voice interrupted.

The named Death Eater turned to Lucius. "What?"

"I suggest you not insult my fiancée."

Antonin looked at him incredulously. "You saw what the bint did!" he argued.

Lucius sneered at the man coldly. "Ignore my words again, and I will cut your fucking throat myself."

The dark-haired Death Eater stopped where he was. He knew Malfoy never made empty threats. He'd seen him do the very same to many people before. He sat down resigned, clearly unhappy, but he didn't want to be Lucius Malfoy's next victim.

"She needs to be punished," Dolohov finally bit out.

"I agree," Rabastan added.

Rodolphus and Bellatrix both nodded in agreement.

"She will learn her place." Lucius looked pointedly at Dolohov. "My words from before still stand. She is my fiancée, and I will deal with her." He paused. "Touch her, and I will relish wiping your blood off my robes."

With that the Malfoy patrician strode out of the dining room and made towards Ginevra's room. He was furious. She had embarrassed him … made him look like a fool. It was time to show her that it did not do to piss off a Malfoy.

Contrary to popular belief, he was not a woman beater. He had never raised his hand to a woman. _Well_, he mused, _Bellatrix didn't count; she was practically a male._

But there were many other ways to manipulate a person, to bend them to your will, and Ginevra's weakness was her pathetic family. It was almost too easy.

He detoured to his office to send a quick owl to one of his contacts at the Ministry before making towards her rooms. He'd been a while._ Hopefully she's calmed down by now._

When he entered the room, the red-head was staring at the wall, her eyes raw from crying.

Lucius sighed. "Ginevra," he called. The girl's head twitched, but she didn't turn towards him; she refused to acknowledge the man.

He narrowed his eyes. She was testing his nerves now. "Ginevra," he called again, a hint of steel entering his voice.

The red-head slowly turned around, her body fully facing the Malfoy. Her eyes were downcast.

"Look at me," he demanded. "Fucking look at me!" he seethed.

She turned her gaze upwards, a flicker of rebellion entering her eyes.

"I have been patient with you so far. Do not push me, Ginevra, because I assure you, you will not like the consequences."

The red-head stayed silent.

"Your behaviour was unacceptable. You are never to disobey me again." He took a few steps closer to her, grabbing her chin forcefully.

Ginny whimpered in his grip. "Let go of me, you bastard," she cried.

"What did you say?" Lucius Malfoy demanded, his eyes flashing dangerously.

She scoffed at him. "You heard," she responded in challenge.

His grip on her increased in intensity, his hand harsh against her soft skin.

"Stop," she whimpered.

"Apologise." When he heard no response, his voice sharpened. His hold on her now increased ten-fold, her delicate skin bruising.

She gasped in pain.

"Apologise _now_ for being an insolent bitch," he growled.

She flinched at his harsh words. "I-I'm sorry," she managed.

His grip lessened. "Why are you sorry?"

"For being an … an insolent … b-bitch," she choked out, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

Lucius released his grip. Ginny's hands immediately cupped her face. The Malfoy man raked a hand through his blonde hair and turned away from the girl. "You will soon learn your place."

With that, he left the room. He hadn't meant to be so rough with her. He would never hit her. A part of him, however small, did care for the girl, and seeing an angry red mark on her face as a direct result of his actions did not sit well with him.

"Tinker," he called.

The said house-elf immediately apparated in front of its master. "What can Tinker do for yous, Master?"

"Deliver some healing salve to Ms Weasley. Immediately." The elf nodded, disappearing from view with a sharp crack.

**X**

It had been several days since the 'incident', as Ginny had taken to calling it, and currently she stood outside the office of Lucius Malfoy_, _the place to which he had summoned her._ Summoned_. She rolled her eyes at that. Of course Malfoy would summon her. He was above asking anyone to do anything. She knocked on the door and waited patiently. As she stood, her eyes wandered across the hallway and the centuries of portraits of imperious Malfoys that were cemented to the wall—with Sticking Charms, she guessed.

Her eyes moved from frame to frame, carefully analysing the occupants. She had been doing that ever since her conversation with Isabella. She'd hoped she would have been able to find her to ask her more on what she had said, but she'd had no such luck thus far. Ginny didn't really understand what Isabella had meant by all those things she had said. Isabella had made it seem like she and Lucius were _supposed_ to be together. Like the branches of fate were twining them together. Ginny had never believed in fate, though; to her, life was what you made it.

Her gaze froze when she came across a picture of Lucius down the hallway. She moved towards it, her feet carrying her there instinctively.

She couldn't deny he was handsome. Actually, if she were really truthful, more than that—he was an Adonis: male perfection. In her eyes, the Malfoy men were excellent specimens of what a male should look like. Not that she would ever admit that; she would rather be hexed into oblivion. Her family would probably disown her if she ever admitted that out loud.

She smiled grimly. Fate obviously had a wicked sense of humour. She'd been dealt her cards, and now it was her decision to decide what to do: bow out, or take a leap of faith.

The first time she had ever seen the Malfoys was in Flourish and Blotts when she was ten, and since then, she'd always had a bit of a fascination with them. She by no means liked them or envied them, but the Malfoy family was a stark contrast to the vibrant Weasleys; that had always piqued her interest.

In particular, Draco Malfoy. He was easily the most attractive wizard at Hogwarts, and he had always intrigued her. Of course, she knew all too well what a pompous, egotistical, arrogant, prejudiced prat he was, but she—like every other witch at Hogwarts—had at some point imagined what it would be like if he grabbed her in a corridor and snogged her senseless: to have those perfectly pink lips descend on hers, showing her new levels of passion. She sighed wistfully and admitted that was all it ever was, though: fantasies.

She cocked her head in thought before the smooth voice filtering through the door pulled her from her thoughts. "Enter."

With small steps she approached the study door and twisted [and pushed] the handle to reveal the room. Lucius stood in front of his fireplace, a crystal decanter in hand. She walked forwards and stood, wringing her hands, unsure of what to do. She decided to take a seat, preferring that option to standing dumbly in the middle of the room.

Relaxing slightly against the soft cushions on the seat, she turned her gaze to the tall blonde. Her brown eyes followed as he poured deep mahogany-coloured liquid from the decanter into a tall glass. _Firewhiskey_, she noted, recognizing its distinctive colour. She raised an eyebrow as he downed the glass in one go. He always seemed to be drinking, she mused. It was almost like he was raising the glass in a sadistic toast to himself.

"So," he started, "you are to return to Hogwarts tonight," he stated, his eyes snapping to hers.

She looked up. "Yes," she responded. "Is that why you called me in here? You already told me that before…." she trailed off.

To be honest, she wasn't sure if she was glad to be going back to Hogwarts. Not that she would rather stay at the manor. _Hell, no._ She was relieved beyond belief that she could finally leave what she had started to refer to as 'Hell Hole', but she was certainly not looking forward to going back to school.

In all certainty she didn't know how her friends, teachers … and enemies would react to her situation. They all knew about it, of course. They had all been there when she'd been taken. Although she would never admit it out loud, she was a little bit afraid of how people would treat her now that she was engaged to the Devil's right-hand man.

Lucius turned to face her, smiling wryly. "Indeed, I have."

He paced forwards, opting to take the seat closest to her rather than his customary seat behind his imposing desk.

"When you go back, things will have to change." He flicked his wand, and a piece of parchment floated into his outstretched hand.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, disliking where this conversation was leading. "Change?" she asked, her stomach churning unpleasantly.

"Yes," he answered evenly. "You will soon be a Malfoy, so you should start behaving like one."

"You will need to sign this." He placed the parchment in front of her and handed her a quill.

Taking the quill from his outstretched hand, she looked up. "What is this?" she inquired as she looked dubiously at the long parchment.

"A marriage contract," he stated, his silver eyes watching her reaction closely.

She pushed the paper away. "I won't sign that."

Lucius smirked evilly. "I think you misunderstand the situation, Ms Weasley."

He stood up and placed his hands on either side of where she was seated, his strong arms acting as a cage. She slid backwards, trying to get away from him. "You don't have a choice."

She rubbed her forehead wearily and slowly breathed in and out, trying to calm down. _He can't make me sign it. I won't._

Lucius took in the girl seated in front of him and sighed in irritation. "We can either do this the easy way or my way. Sign the paper now, or—" stepping back, he took a seat and withdrew his wand—"I'll just _Imperio_ you."

"You wouldn't," she stated, trying in vain to convince herself that he wouldn't stoop as low as to use an illegal curse on her.

He chuckled, his eyes boring dead into hers. "Oh, believe me, I would."

His eyes flickered to his pocket watch. "Either way, you will sign the contract."

She almost whimpered at his cold tone.

"I'm going to count to three, and believe me, you don't want me to finish counting."

She shut her eyes, trying to block him out. What the hell was she going to do?

"One."

_Oh no. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._ If she signed it, then there would be no way out. She would be stuck in a marriage with Malfoy. And if she didn't—she squeezed her eyes shut; she didn't want to think about that.

"Two."

Time was running out, but she was still drawing blanks at what to do.

"'Three," he finished, folding his arms in front of him. "Time's up."

The Malfoy observed her, a look of nonchalance painted upon his face as he scratched his chin in thought. For a minuscule second he saw the steadfast resolve in her eyes, the bravery, which was hidden under her panic. Did she really think he wouldn't follow through with his threat? She would soon learn that he never said anything he didn't mean.

"_Imperio_," he muttered quietly, and with one swift movement of his wand, she was his to control.

The force with which the spell hit her pushed her forcefully back into her seat. She couldn't move: motion arrested.

She began to panic; she was under a bloody Unforgivable Curse. Focusing all her brain cells on moving, she mentally cried in frustration, as it was all in vain.

"Ginevra, look at me."

A haze surged through her, and she felt the power of the curse working. At his order her head snapped up, too fast and too unnatural to have been of her own accord. Her body stayed deathly still, her head tilted at Lucius at an angle that would have been painful if she had been in control of her actions. She tried to fight against the curse again, pushing every ounce of power and magic in her veins against the curse.

Lucius smirked at her as she tried unsuccessfully to fight the curse; his Imperius Curse was much too powerful for her to overcome. Many Aurors had fallen under his wand at the casting of the curse.

"Sign your full birth name at the bottom of the contract," he ordered.

Her limb reached out and took the quill, securing it in her hand in such a tight grasp that her knuckles almost turned white. Her insides cried out; this was it. Once she had signed her name, there would be no way out.

Who knew a single piece of parchment could change a life so drastically? As the quill scratched her name at the bottom of the parchment, she mentally said goodbye to her dreams: to finding someone who loved her as much as she did him, to having children with a man she loved.

Her eyes filled with a resigned sadness as her distinctive scrawl was permanently etched upon the paper. **_G-I-N-E-V-R-A _**_— _**_M-O-L-L-Y _**— **_W-E-A_**- Her mind briefly flashed to Blaise, her heart clenching painfully. He had been so sweet to her. She didn't know what she felt for him, but she knew that she cared deeply for him. Now she would never be able to see what would have become of their relationship. She barely noticed as the last few letters were scribbled. -_**S-L-E-Y**._ It was done.

Her body sagged as she felt the power of the Imperius Curse withdraw from her. The deed was done: she'd signed her happiness away. Her eyes took in where she'd signed her name, lingering on the last letter, 'y'. She couldn't help but ask that question to herself: _Why?_ Why did this have to happen to her?

Ginny Weasley had spent the last few hours before returning to Hogwarts in the Malfoy library. Currently, she was trawling through a neat little potions book. She'd always been a bit of a dab-hand at potions, taking to brewing complex potions in her own time. Snape had never liked her, so her talent had stayed relatively quiet thus far, which she wasn't complaining about.

She was a long shot from Hermione. Ginny's strengths lay in the more practical subjects: Potions, DADA, Charms, and Transfiguration. Conversely, she was an epic fail at Divination, Astronomy, Arithmancy, and History of Magic. She shrugged. _You can't win them all._

An intriguing potion named simply Dream had seized her attention, the dusky pink shade of the illustrated potion drawing her in. She read: _The Dream potion is named such for its ability to create vivid dreams for the drinker. The brewer of the potion can manipulate what will be seen by the drinker of this potion. The potion, when correctly brewed, immediately turns a pale shade of pink; though, after a few hours it subsides to a colourless, odourless, tasteless potion._

Ginny raised an eyebrow in interest. "That's kind of like Veritaserum," she muttered before reading the rest of the paragraph.

_These qualities have allowed the potion to be used for darker purposes. In the early nineteenth century, at the height of the popularity of this potion, it became common practice for many young witches to slip this potion into the drink of a man they wished to woo. One witch besotted by a young aristocrat repeatedly slipped high dosages into his evening Firewhiskey, which eventually lead to the man's unhinging. It ultimately led to the murder of his wife and the subsequent casting of an Unforgivable on the female potion brewer. As such, the potent potion was banned by the Ministry and has remained such since, classified by the Ministry as a highly dangerous potion._

_Jeez. How horrible_, she thought grimly.

A loud crack sounded behind her, causing her to almost jump out of her skin. She shot a glare at the house-elf.

"Tinker is very sorry, Miss." The elf looked at her, its wide eyes glassy and apologetic.

Ginny sighed. "It's fine," she said, plastering a light smile on her face. "You just scared me, that's all," she added.

"Master says Tinker is to bring Miss to his office now."

Ginny nodded. The time had finally arrived for her to return to Hogwarts. Before she made to follow the elf, she grabbed the potions book. It had some interesting potions in it that she'd never find at Hogwarts—not even in the restricted section. Besides, she doubted the Malfoys would miss it; when she'd pulled it from the bookcase, it had had a thick layer of dust caked on it.

She followed the elf as it led her to Malfoy's study. When they reached the room, the door was ajar, and she took a seat inside as the elf Apparated away.

"As I said earlier, you will return here each weekend, arriving on Friday evening."

She nodded, resigned.

"Malfoy Manor will be the host of the Annual Halloween Party next Saturday, and there you will be introduced to formal society as my fiancée."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

He carried on, not acknowledging her interruption. "Draco will also be in attendance, and you will return to the manor with him."

"What will I wear? I don't have anything formal."

"You need not worry. A dress befitting of a Malfoy bride is already being selected for the occasion. That is all," he said dismissively.

He flicked a look to his personal fireplace. "The Floo Powder will take you to Hogwarts."

As the red-head stood, Lucius' eyes fell to the book clutched in her hand. He only raised an eye brow and shifted his glance in its direction.

Ginny's cheeks heated. "Oh, um ... it looked interesting. I really like potions, and I didn't think anyone would care if I borrowed it," she rambled. "Can I borrow it?" she asked meekly.

Lucius Malfoy merely looked amused. "Feel free," he said casually. "Like I said, darling, you're practically a Malfoy now."

She cringed at the term of endearment, to which he only smirked in reply.

Tightening her grip on the potions book, she stalked forwards and snatched a handful of the shimmery Floo Powder with her free hand and threw it in the fire. Stepping into the bright green flames, she shouted, "Hogwarts."

She barely caught the word "behave" from Lucius as she was whirled away, back to the familiar Scottish castle.

Her mind was a blur as she spun out of the fireplace, stumbling in her haste, her limbs splayed everywhere. She'd forgotten how much she detested Floo travel. Her eyes began to focus, gathering her bearing as to where in the castle she was when she heard … moaning.

"_Yes_, Drake," the distinctly female voice yelled in pleasure.

Ginny's eyes widened in horror as her eyes fell on a naked Draco Malfoy pumping into Astoria Greengrass. The aforementioned girl had her legs wrapped around the young Malfoy, his tight, muscular buttocks thrusting towards Astoria over and over again, his family jewels smacking into her wetness with each advance, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Blushing, Ginny quickly averted her eyes. She coughed lightly to make her presence known to the couple and was glad, yet slightly embarrassed, when the female Slytherin cracked her eyes open, squeaking in shock when she saw the red-head.

Draco Malfoy gave a final push into Astoria, grunting with a satisfied release before rolling to the side, fixing a smirk on the Weasley.

Ginny's eyes lingered on the male Slytherin's shaft, which was still standing erect and left uncovered for all to see, his seed languidly trailing down its length. For a brief moment she idly wondered if Lucius would be as long as Draco. Horrified at her thoughts, she turned away.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the little Weaslette," he drawled.

Her eyes snapped to the couple. The younger Slytherin had the dignity to blush under the gaze of the red-head.

Astoria scrambled from the bed and bolted to the adjacent en-suite bathroom. Draco rolled his eyes as he watched her go.

The young blonde lay languidly against the silken sheets, his eyes studying the Gryffindor. "Like the show?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Ginny looked at him slightly repulsively. "Where am I, Malfoy, and how do I get out of here?"

Draco bit back a laugh at the girl's expression. "In answer to your first question, well—" he flicked a pointed look at the room's décor— "I thought that much would have been obvious by the Slytherin hangings."

Ginny's eyes flicked to the bed and gave the room a quick once-over. She let out a low whistle. "Sweet Circe … do you all get your own rooms?" she asked, mildly impressed and temporarily distracted by this fact she had never known.

Draco Malfoy stood up. The only thing hiding his naked glory from the little Weasley was the thin sheet wrapped around his waist, secured in a loose knot.

"It's Slytherin House, sweet cheeks," he said with a wink, as if that explained everything.

She cocked an eyebrow. "Put some bloody clothes on, Malfoy," she yelled and proceeded to grab a t-shirt. She tossed it towards Draco, who caught it easily.

With a roll of his silver eyes, he tugged on the old Falcons t-shirt and pulled on some black bottoms. "I'm assuming my father sent you."

When Ginny was sure he'd dressed, she turned back to him, nodding her head. "How—"

"How come I have a fireplace connected to the Floo?" he finished for her.

The red-head nodded.

"Father is a governor, so he managed to pull more than a few strings," he said with a smirk. "It's the only fireplace connected to the Floo Network, apart from Dumbledore's fireplace."

"So … you can just leave whenever you want to." Her eyes widened. "Wait, that means anybody could just leave Hogwarts."

"Yes and no. Only those with express permission of a Malfoy can use it, and besides, it has a password that only Father and I know … which is why you'll be travelling with me on your weekend visits."

He walked towards her. "Anyway, enough questions. You wanted me to show you the way out?" he asked. "Or," he added suggestively, "you could stay a while and get a little comfortable. I could never deny a pretty woman, especially when she's already in my room."

Ginny shivered before scowling. "You're sick, Malfoy." She tossed her hair back. "I'm being forced to marry your father, for the love of Merlin. So stop hitting on me." Her eyes narrowed. "Besides, your girlfriend is still in the bathroom."

He shrugged. "Mere technicalities. You can't blame a guy for trying." He added with a wink, "And Greengrass is _not_ my girlfriend."

"Can you show me out now, Malfoy? Now."

Draco Malfoy nodded, looking amused at her tone, and led the younger Gryffindor out of his room and through Slytherin House. He turned down a few passages, stopping in front of a picture of Salazar Slytherin. He muttered something quietly, and the portrait swung forwards, opening to reveal a common room.

The room was decorated in emerald green and black marble, and Gothic chandeliers studded with hundreds of crystals dangling from the high ceiling. An array of plush, green velvet cushions were spread haphazardly across the numerous leather sofas dotted around the room.

Ginny had assumed the room was empty until her eyes fixed on a figure near the fireplace. She froze; it was Blaise Zabini. His eyes caught hers across the room, rooting her to her spot.

He made as if he was about to stand up and follow her. Quickly, she mumbled at Malfoy to hurry, and a few moments later she was at the threshold, which served as an entrance and exit to the Slytherin dungeons. Her eyes smiled in familiarity at the nearby potions corridor she recognized.

Malfoy was still standing behind her. "You know, Weasley, you're not half bad—" he seemed to pause in thought— "for a blood traitor, anyway," he added with a shrug before turning away. Without a backwards glance he mumbled a "see you around" before stalking back inside.

Ginny ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.

**X**

It was her first morning back at Hogwarts, and Ginny was acutely aware of the whispers that followed her as she made her way to the Great Hall. By the time she had entered the hall and sat down for breakfast, she was just about ready to hex someone.

Hermione, who had taken the seat next to her, squeezed her arm in reassurance.

She flicked the bushy-haired girl a look of gratitude; she was glad that someone was there for her. She had already noticed how most of the Gryffindors were avoiding her like she had dragon pox.

She smiled grimly. All the seats around her were empty. It was like someone had placed a Repelling Charm on her, and no-one wanted to be with a ten-metre radius of her.

She grabbed a glass of pumpkin juice and downed it in one, immediately refilling it. Sighing, she rubbed her temples, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her left ear. It would be hard enough getting through the day, let alone the rest of the year.

For the millionth time she found herself mentally cursing Lucius Malfoy. She couldn't help but feel resentful of her peers, though. It wasn't like she had willingly chosen this. How was she to know that some freaking marriage law existed that meant any bloody, bigoted pure-blood could claim to marry her?

Loading a couple of slices of toast onto her plate, she ate each slice mechanically, unmindful of the chatter around her: gossip, which was most likely concerning her, if she could tell by the constant glances that fell her way.

The swooping of owls across the room caused Ginny to look up. A tawny brown owl flew towards her and dropped a newspaper in front of Hermione.

Her eyes widened when she read the front-page headline: _**Muggle Village Burnt to Ground**_. A picture next to it showed hundreds of bodies littering the ground, their eyes wide and hollow: dead. She suddenly didn't feel hungry any more.

"That's horrible," was all Ginny managed to get out.

Hermione nodded. "That's the second one in a week," she replied. Looking slightly nauseous, she quickly looked below at another article underneath. Her eyes flicking to Ginny in surprise, she began to read.

_Rita Skeeter, well-known journalist for the Daily Prophet, was found dead in her Central London flat this morning. Suspicions were raised when Ms Skeeter didn't show for an interview last night. Her neighbour, a Mrs Babbity Lockstraw, found her only this morning. It is not known who was behind the attack, though it has been leaked that the Aurors investigating suspected foul play….  
_

"Death Eaters," Hermione whispered, dread shining in her orbs.

Ginny nodded. Suddenly she looked at Hermione curiously. "I don't get it, though. Why kill her? It's not like she's a threat."

"Gin," the older witch started carefully, "Skeeter's been writing so much rubbish about you the last two weeks—" Hermione's expression suddenly shifted when she caught sight of someone.

Ginny turned to see Ron.

Grabbing a slice of crispy toast, the brunette stood. "I'll catch you later, Gin," she said before dashing towards the Weasley male, leaving the young red-head no chance to stop her.

Ginny said a muffled "bye" before going back to her breakfast, reading the rest of the Prophet. _What did Hermione mean? What did Skeeter's death have to do with her?_ She would have to get her friend to explain later.

She'd nearly finished when someone slid into the empty seat on the other side of her. She nearly cussed in annoyance when she saw that it was one of the girls she had to share a dorm with, Romilda Vane. She pushed the paper away.

She didn't care much for the girl; she was a notorious gossip and dreadfully annoying. For the last four years, they'd pretty much never really spoken, each finding mutual dislike in the other. That was why Ginny was curious but slightly vexed that she had seated herself next to her.

"Ginny," the girl gasped, a fake smile alighting her features.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"How have you been?" Romilda asked as she wrapped her arms around the red-head in a hug. Ginny's arms hung limp; she refused to acknowledge this strange behaviour.

"Uh—I'm fine," she answered as she wriggled out of Romilda's awkward hug.

"Course, you are," the dark-haired girl replied with a smile as she sat more comfortably.

_Great,_ Ginny thought sarcastically. Now she'd have to sit for longer, listening to her mindless chatter.

"So, spill, then?"

A mischievous glint in Romilda's eyes had Ginny raising her eyebrow.

"What?" the red-head asked stupidly, obviously not understanding the girl's implication.

The other fifth-year rolled her eyes. "Lucius Malfoy, silly." She raised her eyebrows at Ginny as if the Titian-haired girl should have automatically known what she was talking about.

As soon as that name spilled from Romilda's glazed, cherry lips, Ginny's gaze suddenly turned icy as she glared at the other girl.

The other girl pouted at her expression, mistaking the cold glare as merely that of Ginny not wanting to share the juicy details. She tossed her raven hair back. "Oh, you're so lucky," she gushed.

_Lucky?_ She seethed. _Did that twit just say lucky? Fucki—_

"He is just so lush," she added in a dreamy voice, cutting Ginny off from her thoughts. Romilda tilted her head to the side, her eyes hazy with lust and envy.

_Lush? Lucky? Has Romilda gone mad?_

"I mean, I know you had a thing for that Zabini guy, but now you've gone and snagged the richest bachelor in England."

Her head snapped to Romilda's. "Wait_—_what? How do you know about Blaise?" she whispered furiously. She lowered her head closer to Romilda's, looking around to see if anyone was listening.

Romilda looked surprised at the tone of Ginny's voice, but that soon turned to a smirk as she sent her a 'so, it's true' look.

"I knew it," Romilda said happily, clapping her hands in excitement.

Ginny immediately cursed herself for her stupidity. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. She and Blaise had kept their relationship quiet for six months now, and in all of five seconds she'd blown it. She may as well have cast _Sonorus_ and announced it to the entire Great Hall because if the most gossipy girl at Hogwarts knew her secret, then it would not be long before the entire bloody school knew. _Fuck._

The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly began to prickle, causing a seductive shiver to run down her spine. Without even turning around, she knew he was looking at her. His sharp, crystal-green eyes would be observing her every action.

Ignoring the incessant chatter of Romilda Vane, Ginny slipped out of her seat and left the Great Hall.

So far, she'd successfully avoided Blaise. When she'd arrived the previous night, she'd thought he would have followed her. Thankfully, he hadn't, but there was no way she could escape him now.

Truth be told, she didn't know why she was avoiding him. Dating Blaise had been great. He was everything she'd wanted. Dean had been too pushy and protective, and Michael had turned out to be a bit of a git. And Harry—she sighed wistfully— she'd never dated him _per se,_ but her love, or more accurately, hero-worship, of him had been extinguished a while back. She loved him as a brother, a friend.

_Blaise, though._ She smiled. He was suave and intelligent, he could make her laugh, and he always noticed the little things about her. He was athletic and fun, and most of all, he made her happy.

"You've been avoiding me."

Her eyes snapped up to Blaise's, who was leaning against the castle wall, his arms folded, his gaze accusatory. It wasn't a question, and she had the decency to look down in shame, her cheeks flushing a dull pink.

"Ginny," he said softly as he came forwards, cupping her cheek. He gently tilted her chin upwards so she was forced to meet his gaze.

"Blaise, stop. I-I—we can't see each other any more."

"Why?" he asked sharply. "And don't give me any shit about Lucius Malfoy."

"Blaise … you know there is no way out of it." She looked away and hesitated before adding, "And I signed a contract."

"What, Ginny?" he asked incredulously. "Why the hell would you do that?"

She glared at him. "It's not like I had a choice." She closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead. "He cast the_ Imperius_ on me," she added quietly.

Blaise's gaze softened. He was angry, but not at Ginny. His anger was at Lucius _f__ucking _Malfoy. "I'm sorry, babe. Are you alright?" he asked tentatively.

She nodded limply. "I am now."

He pulled the red-head into a hug, the warmth of his lean body enveloping her in a protective blanket. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I don't want to marry him," she mumbled softly against his chest.

"We'll figure it out." He paused suddenly, something lighting in his green eyes. "Ginny," he said urgently, "if you signed the Marriage Contract under the _Imperius_, then—I'm not completely sure—but there may be a way to get out of this."

She smiled up at her boyfriend. Why had she been avoiding him? He was a great guy, sexy as hell, and amazingly supportive. She pushed her body closer to his, craving the closeness.

Blaise let out a groan. "Gin," he said in a strained voice, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

She stared at his perfect lips, unconsciously licking her own. A second later his lips descended on hers. She allowed herself to relax into him, feeling light and dreamy. His hand came up to cup her breast, a wanton moan spilling from her lips at his touch.

As she stuck out her tongue to intensify the kiss, a sharp burning suddenly scorched her lips, causing her to quickly pull back. The burning quickly increased until she was crying out in pain.

"Ginny? Ginny!" Blaise called, his face a picture of worry.

She turned around and ran, not even acknowledging where her feet took her. Breathing in and out heavily, she stopped. The pain was starting to dull. She sighed, holding her head between her hands.

"You're back at Hogwarts for one night, and already you're acting like a little whore."

She flinched backwards, her back hitting the stone wall as Lucius Malfoy melted out of the shadows. _What the hell is he doing here?_

One look at his murderous expression answered her question.

_He knows._

She gulped and slowly wet her lips. "W-what?" she asked shakily.

"You heard," he sneered, his strong arms caging her, keeping her pinned to the wall.

She gulped.

_Fuck._

* * *

_**Editor's note**: Thank you for reading this archived, edited chapter of **Callidora-Malfoy**'s story._

* * *

THIS STORY WILL NOT BE UPDATED.


	8. VIII: Actions Have Consequences

**_Editor's note:_ **_I have permission to archive this chapter by hosting it under my pen name. _

- Unedited -

* * *

**by** **Callidora-Malfoy**

_Disclaimer: This entire magical world belongs solely to J.K Rowling. I own nothing._

* * *

**Forced into Darkness**

Chapter Eight: Actions Have Consequences

"Get off me!" Ginny cried in desperation, struggling to push off the stronger male.

Ignoring her pleading cries, Lucius Malfoy pushed his body even more forcefully against the petite red-head. Her back cut roughly against the castle wall. She shrieked, feeling a jagged stone poking into her.

"Who was it then?" he asked, his eyes shining with malice. "Potter?" he spat, the fury swirling in his bottomless pits. The sharp tone of his voice warned her that if it were indeed Harry Potter then there would be hell to pay.

He lifted a hand, resting it on her chin. With languid movements he gently traced her jaw line before roughly tilting it upwards, forcing her to look straight at him.

She gasped, her wide, glassy brown orbs clearly reflecting the coil of fear that was slowly winding itself around her. She lightly shook her head. "Nobody," she whispered quietly.

Lucius sighed heavily, his hands falling to his sides, before his penetrating gaze was fixed yet again upon her. "Ginevra," he started. "You are to be my _wife_." His voice suddenly hardened. "That means that you cannot flaunt yourself like some kind of harlot."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at his coarse wording. "How dare you!" She seethed, refusing to be afraid of him. "I didn't ask for any of this. I will _not_ marry you. I refuse."

"So we're back to that, Ginevra?" Lucius scoffed. "You didn't bother to read the marriage contract, did you?"

Ginny felt her blood run cold. _What exactly were the specifics of the contract? Oh, no._

The blonde smirked evilly. "The contract you signed means you have agreed to marriage. Also, it means that you cannot reveal Malfoy secrets to anyone, so whatever you overhear or see you won't be able to go running to Dumbledore or that foolish Order of his.

"Also," Lucius sustained, "you signed your agreement to the _Fidelis Consanguinities_ charm, which means that I will know if you ever decide to cheat on me."

Ginny looked at him in with wide horrified eyes. "That's why I burned," she muttered to herself, finally joining the dots together.

"Yes. He scoffed, threading his fingers through her hair. "You see, Ginny, the only person who will ever be fucking you is me," he hissed through clenched teeth, as his fingers tugged at her hair to drive home his point.

Ginny flinched in pain and shock. She blanched, her face rapidly palling. Wincing at his crude words she looked down at her feet, her stomach in knots.

"Now I won't ask you again, Ginevra. Who did you sully yourself with?"

Ginny returned the man's harsh gaze, refusing to give him the information he wanted. She wasn't in the wrong. Blaise was her boyfriend; she had nothing to answer for.

"Fine," he finally muttered, his patience having run its short course. "You leave me no choice." With that he grabbed her skull firmly with his hands and clearly whispered _Legilimens_. Ginny hadn't been expecting the invasion so her mind was laid open for him to pry through. She gasped.

She could feel the foreign intrusion in her mind, as Lucius pushed aside random memories in his search for the one he wanted. Tears were starting to sting at her eyes, the force with which he was traipsing through her thoughts proving too much, even for her.

The pain began to ease as Lucius found the memory he wanted. Ginny saw as her memory played out: she and Blaise talking, and then Blaise deeply kissing her and cupping her breasts and her responding with equal vigour.

"Zabini," Lucius muttered as he pulled out of Ginny's mind. "Zabini," he murmured again, this time the name said with disgust and … challenge.

Ginny looked worriedly at the evil glint in Lucius' eyes, a feeling of unease beginning. "What are you going to do?"

Lucius' cool eyes quickly fell on Ginny again. "Ginevra, you are my fiancée. Zabini should know not to touch what belongs to another, especially a Malfoy."

The red-head knew nothing good would come from this. There was no telling what Lucius would do. She frowned.

"No need to look so upset, _Darling_," he mocked. "Zabini will only get what he deserves.

A dark look crossed his face. It made Ginny shiver. "No-one crosses a Malfoy," he added seriously. "You should remember that."

After that his mouth came crashing down on hers. The rough kiss was a mile away from the shy kisses of Dean. Or the soft and unsure kisses of Michael. Ginny was too shocked by Lucius's actions to do anything as he deepened the kiss, he almost growled as he pushed her back forcefully into the wall.

He grabbed her hands pinning them above her head. "You are mine," he finally hissed against her mouth, his arms caging around her possessively.

Ginny could feel his taut body pressed closely against hers. The warmth of his body-heat radiating to her, but inside she felt frozen-cold. His tone scared her. When he called her his, he really meant it. He actually thought she belonged to him.

Footsteps approached but neither noticed. "Father?" a familiar velvet-lined voice questioned. Lucius quickly pulled away from Ginny turning in surprise.

Two sets of eyes snapped towards Draco Malfoy, who was now in their direct line of sight, a single slick blonde brow raised.

"Draco," the elder Malfoy acknowledged smoothly, covering his shock under a look of calm sophistication. Lucius looked at his fiancée before turning back to his son. "A word, Draco."

"Of course, Father," the younger male replied, his eyes drifting to the pair, a curious expression creasing his features.

Lucius turned briefly to Ginny, his breath still hot against her face. "Wait here. I will be back shortly." His velvety voice lowered indiscernibly. "You have already displeased me. You would be wise not to disobey me again."

Ginny nodded tightly, pushing down the Gryffindor in her that wanted to tell him to go to hell. She touched her fingers to her lips, they felt on fire. She hated Lucius Malfoy but when he had kissed her she felt passion, she felt … alive. In a distant part of her mind Ginny acknowledged that a small part of her had enjoyed his possessiveness, his roughness.

She shivered. Shaking her head, she faced the retreating figures.

She stood rigidly as she watched the Malfoy pair enter an old, disused classroom. For a brief moment she considered eavesdropping, her hand automatically diving into her school bag –which lay discarded on the floor – to retrieve the pair of extendable ears she'd swiped a while back from the twins. Her eyes flicked to the where they had just disappeared. The wooden door was buzzing with magical energy, almost like a barrier.

_Damn._ She cursed. They'd cast a silencing spell.

It was only a few lengthy minutes later that the duo exited the classroom, entering the hallway where she was waiting. She didn't miss the pointed look Lucius gave her as he murmured one last thing to his son. They walked in her direction, stopping when they reached her.

"Goodbye, Draco."

"Father." Draco inclined his head respectfully.

"Remember what I told you, Draco," Lucius told him, his tone firm.

A look of understand passed between the two. "I will," the younger Malfoy replied obediently, a tone of respect and authority in his voice.

It was then that they finally remembered Ginny's existence. Two sets of piercing metallic eyes snapped onto her profile.

Ginny stood uncomfortably, wringing her hands as the two men stared at her. She nearly turned away from the intensity of their gazes.

"Escort Miss Weasley to her lesson."

_So it was 'Miss Weasley', now. Not Ginevra…_

Draco paused for a second before nodding sharply. "Of course." Walking towards Ginny, he slipped an arm around her back and led her away. Ginny turned giving Lucius one last lingering look, before she was lead away.

Once the duo was out of sight of the elder Malfoy, Ginny pushed Draco off of her, casting a suspicious look at the blonde Slytherin.

"Y'know, Red, you shouldn't provoke him."

Ginny snapped her head towards the Slytherin, narrowing her eyes. "What do you know, _Malfoy,_" she spat, her tone icy.

She hadn't been expecting it, so when Draco Malfoy pushed her roughly against the stone wall she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips.

"Get. Off. Me!" she yelled. "What is it with you Malfoys and shoving people against walls?"

Mercury eyes hovered in front of her, resolute and unblinking. "Listen to me, and listen to me _very_ carefully."

Ginny blinked at his sharp tone. "My father is marrying you because the Dark Lord ordered him to."

"What?" The red-head's eyes widened considerably, a cold feeling worming its way into her.

"You had better stop sneering at the Malfoy name because very soon you _will_ be one." His voice lowered a notch. "Things are happening, things which are beyond what you know... It would not be wise for you to cross anyone, least of all my father. The Dark Lord is not the only one with plans."

Ginny lowered her gaze. "I-I don't understand," she stated truthfully, her voice uncertain. She looked up, "Why are you telling me this?" She asked of him.

The ice-cold look Draco had previously been supporting thawed slightly. He sighed. "I know what it's like to be forced into a situation where you have no power but to do as you're told."

Ginny stared at him giving him a curious look. _What situation had Draco Malfoy been forced into which money couldn't solve?_

"Why are you trusting me with this?" She asked his softly. "We barely know each other. How can you even be sure that I won't tell the Order?"

"I heard what my father said; I know you can't reveal Malfoy secrets to anybody."

Ginny nodded stupidly, unsure of what to say to that. It was true, there really was no quip she could give.

They came to a halt outside Ginny's Charms class. Draco looked at her, "I've already said more than I should have."

The red-head didn't reply, she just stared mutely at his crisp profile, her mind a muddle of conflicting thoughts.

He ran a hand distractedly through his blonde tresses, his eyes still on her. "Just remember what I told you." The tone of his voice noticeably warmed, "Keep your eyes open, Red." With a wink he spun around and sauntered down another narrow corridor.

Ginny waited until he was out of sight before she finally entered her Charms lesson.

**X**

George rolled over and planted a kiss on his girlfriend's head. "You look sexy when you pout." He looked adoringly at the girl who lay next to him on the bed, dressed in nothing but a little black negligee.

Kira swatted the ginger-topped man and pulled away from him. "Do we have to visit your family? They're going to hate me!" she said dejectedly.

George smirked at the brunette. "They're going to love you, Babe. Fred likes you." He pounced on her and rolled her so that he had her pinned to the bed. "And more importantly, I like you." He leaned forwards, capturing her lips with his. Kira sighed into him, deepening the kiss her body automatically leaning against his naked torso.

He pulled back up and looked down triumphantly. "So," he said, standing up, "stop being so dramatic."

A large crack sounded and Fred Weasley appeared in the bedroom, grinning. "So what are you two lovebirds up to then?"

Kira hurriedly pulled up the covers and glared at Fred. She picked up a pillow and threw it at him. George only laughed.

Fred looked at the girl appreciatively. "You'd make a pretty good Chaser." Kira rolled her eyes.

Fred winked in response. "Anyway, I couldn't help but hear your conversation-"

George raised his eyebrows and turned to Kira. "That means he was listening at the door." He shot Fred an amused look. "I knew those extendable ears would shoot me in the foot eventually."

"Like I was saying, I heard you're worried about meeting the Weasley clan. They're nothing but a bunch of softies-"

"Clan? Seriously, Freddie, you're making us seem like some prehistoric tribe or something."

Kira smiled at their antics. There really were no others like the twins.

Fred Weasley shrugged in nonchalance. "Meh."

Kira bit her lip. "Was that supposed to make me less nervous? Because it didn't work."

George sat down on the bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her. "You really are worked up about this, aren't you?"

"You think?" she quipped, rolling her eyes.

"You two need to get a room."

George laughed. "We did have one 'till you invaded."

"I only came to impart my expert knowledge." He smirked, giving the couple a knowing look. "I know when I'm not wanted." The twin made towards the door.

It was at that moment that the crash sounded. Both Weasleys were suddenly alert, each pulling out their wands, pointing them towards the door.

Kira had pulled on a jumper and had also followed suit, grasping her wand as well.

The two Weasleys shared a look. "Death Eaters," they whispered.

George turned to his girlfriend, who had suddenly turned very pale. "Kira, apparate out of here." She shook her head. "No," she bit out, determined to stay and help, "I won't leave you."

Another crash sounded and the bedroom door was blown off its hinges, the blast sending George flying across the room, smashing into a dresser. Shards of wooden splinters exploded across the room, many piercing through George's skin.

Kira screamed and tried to run towards him but was sent tumbling to the floor, as if a rug had been pulled from under her feet. She fell on to the ground her head smashing against the floor – hard. She moaned in pain, trying to push herself up, her eyes quickly snapping to her boyfriend, who now had a crimson trail running down the side of his skull. Her hand automatically shot to her face, checking for blood. The brunette bit her lip in shock and worry; tears stung at her eyes and began streaming down her face like liquid diamond.

Fred managed a hex or two at the assailants. He was able to dodge several well-aimed curses his way before he was immobilised by a particularly strong _Petrificus Totalus_.

One of the intruders roughly pulled George up from the carpet and cuffed his hands, the magical handcuffs snapping tightly around his wrists. The Weasley took in the uniform of the man and was surprised to notice it was not that of a Death Eater but of an Auror.

_Why the hell had Aurors come here? _

A tall, dark-haired Auror secured Fred in bonds, murmuring the counter-curse as he did so. "What are you doing here?" Fred shouted, as he struggled in his restraints. "We haven't done anything!" He screamed in frustration, his arms cutting as he tried to break his bonds.

The man ignored the Weasley and made to detain Kira. Just as he pushed her face-first again the wall, he was stopped by the authoritative figure of Yaxley, head of the Auror Department, who had just entered the room.

"Leave the girl," Yaxley commanded, his eyes lingering on Kira, a strange light in his eyes. The young Auror complied immediately, startled by his superiors order.

Kira rubbed her head and shakily tried to stand. "Dad? … Is that you?" she questioned, her eyes settling on Yaxley, whose dark eyes were dead set on her petite form.

Fred's eyes widened. "Dad?" he repeated, his eyes flicking between the two. Alden Yaxley was known by the Order to be a highly ranking Death Eater, a vile, cruel man who had committed more than his fair share of atrocities. _Yaxley_, he thought. They had known her surname, Kira Yaxley, she had told them when she'd applied for the job at their shop. Yaxley wasn't an uncommon name in the wizarding world; there were many families with the name.

Never in a million years would they have guessed Kira; a wonderfully beautiful, intelligent and kind girl was related to a man like Alden Yaxley. Fred found it hard to believe that the two were related, but after observing them in the same room, he had to admit that, despite their opposing hair colours, their physical similarity was striking.

Yaxley's gaze still hadn't wavered. He masked his surprise at finding his daughter here with well practiced ease. "We will speak later, Kira," he said, staring hard at his daughter.

He finally shifted his gaze and turned, whispering something to the tall cloaked figure to his right. The man nodded sharply to his superior and took Kira, gently steering her out of the room.

"Let me go!" she shouted, struggling to push the stronger man away. Her worried eyes flicked from George to Yaxley. "Father," she called, "they haven't done anything!" She gave him a pleading look. "Father! Please. Why are you here?" she asked desperately, pleading with a man she loved for the freedom of another she loved.

"Kira," the man said carefully, his words hard. "Do _not_ disobey me. We will speak at home," he spoke with finality. He gave the Auror a cold look. "Take my daughter and leave. Now." He added sharply, causing the Auror to hasten.

The Auror blinked and hurriedly pulled Kira away, knowing that Alden Yaxley had a legendary temper; he didn't want to be on the receiving end of it. A loud crack indicated the two had apparated away, and Yaxley next turned his attention to the two he had come to arrest.

Fred stood in shock, openly watching the exchange. His hands were still in cuffs, Aurors flanked at his sides, one pressing his thin wand sharply into his side.

George had been dragged from the floor and was now standing limply next to his brother. The blood trickling down his head was now more profuse. Fred gave his brother a worried look.

Yaxley took calculated steps towards them, observing them like caged animals. "If it isn't the Weasley twins," he drawled, giving them a cruel look.

"Let us go. We are innocent!" Fred managed. They had done nothing wrong.

Yaxley looked at them with hard eyes, his gaze unsympathetic. "You're being arrested for the murder of Rita Skeeter."

**X**

Alden Yaxley entered his Ministry Office and sat behind his desk. He removed his dark black leather gloves, placing them in a side-drawer. Rubbing his head, his mind flickered back to his daughter. It had certainly been a surprise seeing her with the Weasleys.

Despite what many said behind his back, he was capable of love. He loved his daughter, but he would not risk the Yaxley name diminishing due to her association with blood-traitor filth. It had to stop. He would deal with Kira later. Her ill decision in choosing to associate with those far below the standing of the Yaxleys was only a minor inconvenience. A pureblood reign was close on the horizon and it would be better for her to learn that particular lesson sooner rather than later.

Pulling out a fresh sheet of beige parchment, he dipped his grey-feathered quill into a pot of fluid ink. The sound of the quill scratching against the parchment was the only noise in the spacious office as Alden Yaxley wrote down his message. He held his quill with poise, his words sharp and biting; complimenting his personality perfectly. Once finished, Yaxley appraised his penmanship, debonair and elegant, just the way he liked it.

_Lucius,_

_The deed is done; the twins are detained._

_A . Yaxley_

**X**

It was a well-known fact that Ginny liked Potions. She always had, and she'd been a dab hand at the subject, if there ever was one. But Potions did not like her. More accurately, it was Snape, or Snivellus as Sirius used to _'affectionately'_ call him, who did not.

Thankfully, this year Slughorn had taken over as Potions Master, and Ginny was grateful that she now had a teacher who actually appreciated her aptitude for the subject.

It was her last lesson before lunch and Ginny was trying to quell a yawn that was threatening to release itself. She tried to pay attention as Slughorn explained the theory of the potion but to be perfectly honest, she was bored out of her mind.

She had brewed this potion herself in her third year without any problems. She still remembered the incident, Ron had almost begged her to brew it, Hermione would have refused to do it so he'd come to her instead knowing she was ten times better at brewing potions than him. Harry to this day still didn't know that it hadn't just been pumpkin juice he'd been drinking the morning of his first task in the Triwizard Tournament. The potion was easy enough to brew; after all it was only a _Strengthening Solution_. She could whip one up in her sleep, but right then she wished the lesson would just be finished. There were more pressing things plaguing her thoughts.

Ginny's head sunk to the table, her eyes droopy from fatigue. The past few nights she'd been unable to get any sleep, as her mind had been racing over so many things; there was the mirror, the disturbing images she'd seen of an older Ginny still haunted her, and then there was the mysterious Isabella who'd appeared to her in a portrait, not to mention being held captive as an unwilling bride at wand-point. So much was plaguing her thoughts that when it was time to get up, she'd barely gotten a wink.

"Am I boring you, Ms Weasley?" A voice filtered over to her.

Ginny's head snapped up with such great speed that it was a wonder she didn't pull something. "No, Sir," she muttered quickly, her eyes taking in those of the annoyed, yet amused, Potions Master.

"Good," he replied, a light but weary smile curving his features. He could imagine why Ginny Weasley felt the need to regain sleep during her lessons; everyone knew whom she was going to have to marry. It was enough to keep anyone awake at night.

He raised his voice, now addressing the entire class: "You have one hour to prepare a single vial of _Strengthening Solution._ Begin."

Ginny slowly pulled herself up from her stool and stretched her muscles before making towards the ingredients cabinet. She cast a glance at the empty stool directly beside hers. Colin Creevey was usually her partner for potions but Dennis had let her know at breakfast that Colin was unwell: some kind of fever was going around school, so he would be staying in the hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey's watchful eye.

She sighed in frustration. That meant she'd have to prepare and brew the potion by herself. It wasn't that the potion difficult, but without another set of hands, it would take her twice the time to prepare ingredients for the potion, and that meant it would cut into her lunch time._ Damn._

Running a hand distractedly through her long, crimson locks, she rummaged through the cupboard, mentally ticking off each ingredient as she found it. Carefully balancing her newly acquired ingredients in her arms as she made back to her bench, but before she reached her destination, her body collided forcefully with another. The salamander blood slid from her grasp and smashed in a red puddle at her feet, even her Quidditch reflexes proving too slow to catch the vial.

She looked up to glare at the culprit who had caused her current problem, meeting the calm, ocean-blue eyes of Astoria Greengrass.

"Careful, Miss Weasley," Slughorn admonished. Ginny nearly sighed in frustration. _Today was definitely not her day._ _Scratch that – make that the entire year._

Before she could respond, to her surprise Astoria Greengrass cut in, "It wasn't her fault, Professor. It was mine." The pretty, brown-haired Slytherin looked meekly at her head of house. "Sorry," she added, giving him a wide beautiful smile.

The aging Potions Master nodded. "Very well, Miss Greengrass. See that it doesn't happen again." He slipped out his wand, pointed it at the mess, and with a sharp swish murmured, "_Evanesco_." The red blood vanished, and Slughorn mumbled something else under his breath about clumsy students, before rolling his eyes and walking away.

Ginny turned immediately towards the Slytherin, confusion as clear as day on her face. She'd never heard a Slytherin apologise, let alone take the blame for something. "Why did you that?" she demanded of the girl.

Astoria shrugged. "It was my fault," she answered simply. Her tone was bland, her facial expression showing no more than bland indifference. She stayed where she was tossing her brown hair behind her back, her eyes never leaving Ginny's.

Ginny quirked an eyebrow at her reply and proceeded to almost roll her eyes at the hair toss. "Okay ... whatever" she scoffed. She made to move, but Astoria was quicker and blocked her path.

"Need a hand?" Astoria asked, giving a pointed look to the pile of ingredients Ginny was carrying. Ginny paused to stare openly at the girl. _Had she heard right?_ Was a Slytherin really offering _her_—Ginny: Gryffindor, Weasley, Blood Traitor, and DA member to boot—help in Potions?

She shook her head. _Whatever Greengrass was playing at she wouldn't be reeled in._ "No. I'm alright ... thanks," she answered, the last word coming out muffled.

Walking steadily back to her seat, she placed the ingredients on the bench. She set to work immediately, starting first with the griffin claw. She turned to see Astoria standing a handful of inches away from her, watching her intently.

Ginny sighed in annoyance. "Was there something you wanted, Greengrass?" she asked, trying to be polite, even though the Slytherin was starting to bloody well irk her.

"Astoria," her smooth voice cut in, a dim smile playing across her lips.

"What?" Ginny asked distractedly, her eyes flicking from her potion preparation to the Slytherin.

"I'm Astoria," the girl added with a customary Slytherin disdainful eye-roll.

Ginny cast her an irritated look, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I saw that Creevey wasn't in, so I thought you might want to pair up."

Ginny now openly gawked at her, thoroughly confused by her actions. The griffin claw sat on the counter, forgotten. "Why?"

"The potion takes ages to prepare, so it'll cut your time in half."

The red-head looked at the younger Greengrass sister suspiciously. _Why is she acting so damn weird? _Never before had the Slytherin looked twice at her—well, only when she had stopped to insult Harry, Ron or Hermione—and then realization dawned.

"Look." Ginny started, "if this is about what I saw you and Malfoy doing," she paused, her face creasing into a look of disgust, "then you can quit the act. I won't tell anyone if that's what this whole thing is about."

A dull pink arose on Astoria's face at the reminder, before it was quickly cast aside under her perfectly cool Slytherin mask.

"Weasley, why do you have to be so difficult? Just accept the help."

Ginny considered the girl. She wanted to say yes, if only for the simple reason that she wouldn't have to spend her entire lunch break in the dungeons, but the words that came out of her mouth were the opposite. "Thanks, but no thanks," Ginny replied simply.

She had expected the Slytherin to leave after that, but the girl remained stoic. "Look Weasley... Ginny," she added as an afterthought, "I like you; I've never thought you were that bad."

Ginny laughed. "So, what? You want use to make daisy chains and braid each other's hair?" she asked sarcastically. "Stop wasting my time, Greengrass. Just get lost."

"Listen."Astoria lowered her voice so only Ginny could hear. "When you marry Lucius Malfoy, you will be entering a dangerous world that you know nothing of."

At this Ginny's eyes snapped to Astoria's. She made to say something but Astoria quickly cut her off. "There will be many that will want you dead." She raised an eyebrow at Ginny's expression. "Don't look so shocked. Believe me, that's not the worst of it. What I'm offering you is my friendship. I can help you. There are people watching you everywhere. Even here in Hogwarts there are spies."

Ginny gave Astoria a troubled look. "Spies?"

Astoria nodded her voice now deadly quiet. "The Dark Lord has his spies everywhere, and so does Lucius Malfoy."

"Are you-"

Astoria slipped out her wand and whispered, "_Muffiliato_."

"No." Her features remained impassive as she spoke. "But many in Slytherin House are."

Astoria held out her hand to Ginny. "So what do you say?"

Ginny hesitated, eyeing her hand, slowly her fingers slid into the open palm of the others girl before they shook hands. She almost regretted doing so when Astoria smiled victoriously.

After Potions Ginny walked slowly to the Great Hall for lunch, the weight of what Astoria had said heavy on her mind. Without much thought she sat down at a random seat and as if on auto-pilot piled various helpings onto her plate. She was halfway through her lunch when she looked up to see someone running in her direction.

Neville ran towards her, breathing heavily, his face worried. He skidded to a halt in front of the red-head seated at the far edge of the Gryffindor table, nearly spilling her glass of pumpkin juice in the process.

Ginny turned her vision to her friend in alarm. "Wow, slow down Neville. Where's the fire?" A slightly amused smile tugged at her lips. It didn't pass her notice that this was the closest she'd been to smiling the last few days. "What in Merlin's name is it?" she added when he'd regained a normal breathing pattern.

He looked Ginny square in the eyes. At his troubled look Ginny's smile faltered ever so slightly.

"Nev," she started carefully, "what is it?" She really, really didn't want more bad news._ Haven't I had more than my fair share in the past few weeks?_

Neville Longbottom slid the newspaper he'd been carrying, in front of the auburn-haired girl and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

Ginny gave him a quizzical look before looking to the paper. With nimble fingers she unfolded the paper. She blanched at the front-page headline: **_"BREAKING NEWS: Weasley Twins Arrested for Skeeter Murder."_**

She turned quickly, looking to Neville, a confused frown on her face. Turning her gaze back to the paper she scanned through the article.

_-In a sudden breakthrough, Aurors were able to apprehend the masterminds behind the murder of the _Daily Prophet_'s former Head Gossip Journalist Rita Skeeter. Ms Skeeter was found dead two days ago, after a neighbour raised the alarm. Sources inside the Ministry say that last night they received a tip off from a senior Ministry official who has yet to be named, linking twins Fred and George Weasley, the proprietors of Weasley' Wizard Wheezes, to the murder. An elite group of Aurors led by Head Auror Alden Yaxley stormed the Weasley premises early this morning. They managed to successfully apprehend the dangerous criminals who are being questioned at the Ministry today. Officials will not comment on when or if a trial will be held, but one thing is certain: Messrs Weasley will most certainly be sent to Azkaban._

"What is this?" she demanded. She fiercely shook her head. "This is a load of filthy lies. They would never!"

Neville felt her anger. "I don't believe it either. It just came in as Breaking News. I came to find you or Ron straightaway."

She looked up at her friend. "Ron," she whispered, "where is he?" Her eyes scanned the Great Hall. "Does he know?"

"I'm not sure," Neville answered. "We should probably find him," he added.

Ginny nodded. Her eyes scanned the paper again. "Yaxley," she muttered, the name seeming familiar to her. "Yaxley," she said again, this time louder.

"Erm, Ginny?" Neville frowned, turning to the red-head with concern. "You okay?"

Ginny turned back to Neville, staring him dead in the eye. "He's a Death Eater."

Neville's eyes widened. "Who? ... Yaxley?"

Ginny nodded. "Yeah." She looked around, making sure no-one was listening before she continued her voice low. "According to Dad he's one of the worst. He was never caught or implicated with the Death Eaters because he was always smart about it. Getting favours with the right sort of people, donating large sums of money, that sort of thing."

"So you're saying Death Eaters set this up?"

"Who else would? I just don't know why."

A thought suddenly hit her, and in that moment it all seemed to make so much sense. "It was Lucius Malfoy."

"Ginny," Neville answered uncertainly, his brow furrowed, "are you sure?"

"Positive. I angered him the other day—" she looked away, unable to meet Neville's eyes "—and he said I would be punished. He is a Malfoy and they are as ruthless as they come. I wouldn't put it past him to do something like this."

Neville nodded. "What are you going to do?"

Ginny looked at him, her eyes worried and wide. "I don't know."

The rest of the day, Ginny sat in her lessons, her mind in knots and far from Transfiguration or school at all, for that matter. Conversely, it was heavy on the predicament of her brothers. It was a result of her inattentiveness that in Defence Against the Dark Arts Snape gave her detention. Ginny didn't care though, not like she normally would, there were more important things at work than school or detention.

As she dragged herself out of her final lesson of the day, she sighed. Neville had asked her what she was going to do, but what could she do? Realistically, she had no real power: she was a school kid; she had no influence.

Ginny made her way to detention with Snape. All through it she was distracted; she didn't even notice the time as it flew by or the darkening of the sky outside. Once Snape finally dismissed her, she hurriedly walked out, wanting to get back to her dorm.

Ginny ascended the marble staircases, her mind running through a thousand conflicting thoughts at once. As she made it to the GryffindorTower entrance, she saw someone casually waiting outside the portrait: Blaise.

When he saw her approaching, he smiled, and in one smooth movement pushed his lithe body off the stone wall. Ginny returned the smile, glad to see a comforting face.

"You okay, Gin?" he asked her, his green eyes flecked with worry—worry for her. "Before, when you ran off..." he trailed off.

"I'm all right," she replied after a second. She leaned in as he brushed some of her hair back with smooth confident movements, his hot breathe on her neck.

Some third year Gryffindors standing nearby saw the intimate position of the couple and started giggling. Ginny cast the girls a glare. They shut up instantly before speed walking away, casting knowing looks at the couple as they went.

Blaise raised an eyebrow at the younger Gryffindors before smirking. "I guess Romilda Vane has an even bigger mouth than I thought. News certainly travels fast."

Ginny made a face. "I've never liked her. Bint," she muttered hatefully.

"You're sexy when you're cursing, you know?" The Italian boy twirled the red-head towards him, running his fingers against her flesh, un-tucking her shirt when he reached her waist.

Ginny grinned and playfully whacked the Slytherin on his side.

Blaise took this as a challenge and whirled her around tackling her into a corner, his body pressed against hers. He made to press his lips to hers but at the last second Ginny turned her head side-ways, pushing him away.

Blaise gave Ginny an enquiring glance. "What was that?" He focussed on Ginny, a strange look on his face.

"I can't. We can't do _that,"_ she sighed. "Blaise, don't look at me like that."

She reached forwards and smoothed his glossy black hair back, her fingers trailing against his warm skin. "Listen, the other day when we kissed, I ran because I felt this intense burning ... it felt like I was being incinerated inside-out."

"What the hell, Ginny?" He paused in thought. "I mean, I know I'm hot but ..." he trailed off, a teasing grin on his face.

"Blaise, I'm not joking," Ginny said sharply. At her serious expression Blaise straightened up and mirrored her features.

"You remember the contract I told you about, you know, the one I signed?"

Blaise nodded, not liking where this conversation was headed. "How could I forget?" He frowned. What had started out as a nice fluffy moment with his girl was taking a darker turn.

"Well to put it plainly, he will know if I am with anyone else." She looked pointedly at Blaise. "He knew I was with you. He came to Hogwarts ... he was really angry."

"Ginny-"

"Listen, I know I'm an idiot. I should have read the bloody contract ..." she trailed off, resigned.

Blaise held her close. "You're not an idiot, Ginny." He softly tilted her chin so her brandy eyes met his dark green ones. "You did the best you could in the situation you were in. No-one blames you for anything. Hell, none of this is any of your fault."

He gave her a look of determination. "You're not alone, Gin. I will find a way out for you ... for us."

Ginny felt tears sting her eyes. "Thanks for being there for me, Blaise." She walked towards the portrait of the Fat Lady. "I'd better get to my dorm. Curfew is soon."

Blaise nodded, pocketing his hands in his slacks. That way he could resist his temptation to snog Ginny senseless.

"G'night, Gin. Sweet dreams." He winked at her before sauntering away, engulfed by the darkness of the corridor.

Ginny whispered to a tutting Fat Lady, "_Fortis,_" before the portrait swung open.

**X**

"Wait, where are we going, Hermione?" Harry asked, his emerald eyes shining with confusion.

Ron also looked to Hermione, waiting for an answer. The bushy-haired girl had pulled them both out of the Gryffindor Common Room. They had been happily playing a game of Wizard's Chess when she rushed in, ordering them to follow her.

Hermione stopped in the hallway and dragged the two boys to the side. She pulled out a crisp sheet of folded parchment. "I just got this." She held it out for them to read.

_Mr Weasley, _

_Could you come to my office immediately. Please bring Mr Potter and Ms Granger with you._

_Headmaster Dumbledore_

_P.S. I have always been partial to Fudge Flies._

The two boys looked up at her but before they could ask her anything, she cut in. "I know it's your letter Ron," she gave him a meek look, "but Hannah gave it to me because she couldn't find you."

Ron smiled easily at the brown-haired girl. "It's alright Hermione, no worries." Hermione nodded.

Harry also looked to his best female friend, his emerald eyes speculative. "Why does he want to see us?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it sounds important."

Harry and Ron both nodded in agreement. "We'd better hurry, then." Harry added.

The trio hastily made towards Dumbledore's office, reaching it in record time. Hermione took measured steps towards the Gargoyle and whispered, "Fudge Flies." It happily jumped to the side, giving the two boys a snide look.

The three sixth-years filed in to Dumbledore's office and were surprised to be greeted by the Arthur and Molly Weasley and a vast number of senior Order members.

Dumbledore smiled at the trio. "Welcome. Please have a seat." He waved his wand, conjuring three comfy-looking orange chairs. "I will explain everything shortly."

Molly Weasley stood up and made towards her son and his friends. "Ron." She greeted her son with a kiss on his head.

"Mum!" he whined, his cheeks tinged red. Arthur had pulled up next to his wife and also gave his greetings to the trio.

Molly rolled her eyes, giving Ron a look that made him feel like he was five years old again. She turned away from him with a small smile on her face. "Looking a bit peaky, Harry. Remind me to send you some cookies."

Ron's ears perked up at that. After all food was the language he was most fluent in. "Hey! You never send me any." Ron made a disgruntled face and proceeded to sulk.

Harry shot Ron an amused look. "Thanks, Mrs Weasley. It's good to see you." He smiled gratefully at the woman who had always treated him as if he were her son.

Molly crushed Harry into a warm hug before she finally turned to Hermione. "How are you, Love?" She asked. "Hope these two aren't giving you too much trouble." She nodded her head in the direction of Ron and Harry.

Hermione laughed a knowing look appeared on her face. "Not that much. But I think I can handle them." Molly mirrored the younger girls' features. "It's comforting knowing you're here. Merlin knows what would have happened to those two if you weren't around."

Harry and Ron went to greet the other Order members. Hermione stayed where she was watching as they said 'hello' to Kingsley, then Remus, Tonks, Hestia Jones and Moody.

It was then that she noticed Snape standing apart from everyone, waiting in the shadows, his trademark scowl ever-present.

Finally she turned back to Mrs Weasley. "Molly?" She questioned her voice low.

The Weasley matriarch turned to Hermione. "Yes, Dear?" She asked, her expression polite but lined with motherly concern.

"I was," she stopped. "I was wondering if you knew why we'd all be called here."

Molly paused a grim look marring her usually cheery features. "Well, we," she indicated to herself, Arthur and the rest of the Order members, "were called here to discuss Fred and George …" she trailed off, her warm eyes turning watery.

Hermione squeezed her arm in reassurance. Molly gave her a grateful look and continued. "We just finished discussing their incarceration. I'm not sure why you three have been called here though."

It was at that moment that Dumbledore looked to all present. "I trust everyone is keen to know why I summoned you all."

The occupants of the room nodded in unison.

"We are just waiting on one more person," the door creaked open and Dumbledore's pale blue eyes shifted upwards, "ah, he is here."

All eyes turned and to the mutual surprise of everyone Blaise Zabini entered the room. Silence descended on the room.

Dumbledore indicated for the young Slytherin to take a seat. Eyes followed; some curious, some reproachful as Blaise sauntered in.

Once seated, the elderly Headmaster continued. "Firstly, we have found a way out of Ginny Weasley's marriage to Lucius Malfoy."

There was a collective pause, then a sigh of relief.

A handsome smile broke out on Blaise's face. "Ginny will be relieved that the papers are void." He murmured.

The occupants of the room looked at the Slytherin quizzically but before they could question him on what he'd said Ron interjected. His hateful gaze had been trained on Blaise since he had entered the room. "What the hell is that Slytherin scum doing here if this is about Ginny?"

"Ron!" Molly admonished. His ears tinged red.

"Wait … did Zabini just call her Ginny?" He demanded.

Dumbledore however remained calm. "Mr Weasley, I would be grateful if you could listen first. Mr Zabini's presence here will be addressed soon enough."

Ron was about to reply when Hermione, who had since sat down next to him, placed her hand on his arm in a calming yet restraining manner. "Not now, Ron," she whispered. She knew why Blaise Zabini would be here, after all it was about Ginny. Her only question was how did Dumbledore know?

Ron looked like he was about to disagree, but finally relented. Everyone's attention swivelled back to the Headmaster.

Snape looked at the display with disdain and came forwards so he was next to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore however, looked weary, all his long years visible on his face. It wasn't all good news. "There is a catch though. Ms Weasley must still marry someone," he added in a measured voice.

The smiles in the room vanished in an instant.

Severus Snape interjected, "She has to marry someone that she is in love with. That is the only way. It is vital that she loves whoever she marries, otherwise, Lucius' claim on her will remain intact."

"And," he sustained his onyx black eyes sweeping over the people in the room, "the marriage has to take place immediately. Do not doubt that if Lucius finds out he _will_ stop this." Snape turned his eyes, lingering on Blaise for a second, "Lucius has a claim over Miss Weasley and this use of old magic is the only way to over-ride the Ministry's law."

Nobody spoke. Some eyes flickered to Harry; everyone knew that Ginny had always loved him.

Unexpectedly Hermione stood addressing those present, "If we are here to discuss Ginny's future, why isn't she here? Surely she has a say in her own future?" She found Dumbledore's gaze, after all he had been the one to call the meeting.

Hermione's question went left unanswered because moments later Harry Potter stood. He has thus been relatively quiet but his emerald-eyes were now focussed and determined "I will marry Ginny," he said.

Gasps were heard all around the room. "I won't let her marry Lucius Malfoy," he added, determined to be the hero.

Snape looked at Harry with loathing and ire. "You do understand what this means Potter?"

"No," a voice whispered. Blaise Zabini stood. "I will propose to Ginny."

"Why the hell are you-" Ron started.

Hermione cut him off. "No," She said sharply. Everyone looked to her in surprise. The brown-haired girl made eye contact with the Italian boy who nodded imperceptibly at her.

"Blaise is right." She turned to Harry, unmindful of the others in the room. "She doesn't love you Harry, not anymore. She loves Blaise. It has to be him."

"Hermione, you can't possibly think that-"

This time Molly cut her son off. "Be quiet Ron." Her warm brown eyes found Blaise. "I believe you. I see that you truly care for Ginny."

Harry stood still absorbing everything. Slowly he walked to Blaise something unusual in his expression. It was like he was just realising something for the first time. "Be good to her," he said.

Harry held out his hand to the Italian boy. Blaise shook his hand, accepting the gesture, and accepting that Harry was standing down. He would never admit it out loud, but he respected Harry's graciousness.

In that moment a rare look of understanding passed between the two.

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**Author Note: **I'd like to give a big shout out to all the wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter: maripas, partialprincess, TimeBringsTruth, Susana, PurplePrincess77, LilGami, Velvet Storm, DracoLuverAlanna, Inkfire, Slinkiee, roni2010, Lover of Fantasy, Moony's Black, ZophieR, CrimsonAngel22, That-Spoons-Girl, Celestial Moon Lady, traviswj, dark-lelu, Donna-Darko, Benovolence K, Julia, .xJanele.x.,FanfictionGothicPrincess, darrena, and Nina.

*sends virtual brownies* As always a massive thanks to **DZAuthor** for her beta work.

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_**Editor's note**: Thank you for reading this archived, _unedited_ chapter of **Callidora-Malfoy**'s story.  
_

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THIS STORY WILL NOT BE UPDATED.


	9. IX: The Halloween Ball

**_Editor's note:_ **_I have permission to archive this chapter by hosting it under my pen name. _

- Unedited -

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**by** **Callidora-Malfoy**

_Disclaimer: This entire magical world belongs solely to J.K Rowling. I own nothing._

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**Forced into Darkness**

Chapter Nine: The Halloween Ball

Friday came around much too quickly. As Ginny sat in the library, she couldn't quell the uneasy feeling at going back to the Manor.

She flicked a look at the clock on the far wall, its hand moving much too fast for her liking. It was currently 7:15 PM. Draco had found her this morning, telling her to meet him in the dungeons at 7:45 PM sharp.

Sighing, Ginny shoved her books in to her bag and stood. She stretched her limbs in an uncanny resemblance of a cat. Wandering through the halls, she made her way towards the dungeons, passing few students as she did so. As Ginny descended to the lower levels of the castle, she shivered, the coldness noticeably chilling her to the bone. She hugged her arms around her body in an attempt to retain body heat.

She was only a few metres from where she was to meet Draco when she heard angry voices in the deserted corridor. She approached slowly, her movements freezing when she was within hearing range. Crouching in a darkened alcove, she slipped an extendable ear out of her bag.

"I didn't ask for this job."

The voice sounded familiar to her. Much too familiar. She crept closer, keeping to the shadows as she listened.

"Who ever asks for a job, Blaise? We do what the Dark Lord tells us to do," the other voice answered.

Ginny gasped aloud Blaise and Draco, she recognised. A cold, uneasy feeling began to swirl in Ginny. What "job" were they talking about?_ Blaise doesn't work for the Dark Lord ... does he?...No. He couldn't, wouldn't..._

"I will not be punished for your failures. The Dark Lord gave you a job, so finish it." Draco grabbed Blaise roughly, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing an ugly black snake on his arm. A Dark Mark. "We are Death Eaters, Blaise. You took the mark, just as I did."

Ginny felt sick. She stared, unable to pull her gaze from the hideous tattoo.

Draco pulled away from his friend before speaking again. This time he was more composed. "Listen, Blaise, you've been doing a pretty good job so far. I didn't even know you were seeing Weasley."

_Weasley? They're talking about me!_ Ginny could see the outline of the figures in the darkness. She saw Blaise run a hand through his hair in frustration.

Draco looked at his friend. "Just finish what the Dark Lord wants and turn her to our way of thinking."

_What did they mean by "turn her"? Turn me evil?_

Blaise was a Death Eater. It couldn't be. She couldn't believe it. He wouldn't. No, that wasn't Blaise. But it was...

She'd seen the evidence before her own eyes. Ginny's whole world came crashing around her. Blaise was the one and only stable thing in her life. Not that she would ever admit it to her family or anyone else, but Blaise was the only person she ever thought she could ever really and truly trust.

She was never anyone's number one. With her family—of course she loved them and vice-versa—she was always side-lined by someone else. With Hermione she was her only form of female companionship, but even that was never enough as she'd leave Ginny in a heartbeat for Ron or Harry. When she had been with Michael, he would blow Ginny off all the time to hang out with the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Dean would always leave her in favour of Seamus. Luna and Neville had their own little duo, and when she was with them, she always felt like a third wheel. Colin would never care for any of her problems; he would just quiz her about Harry-related things.

As Ginny stood in the dark alcove, she didn't know whether to cry or scoff. Was this what her life had been reduced to? Two of her brothers had been arrested for a crime they had not committed. The man she had been dating for months now turned out to have been using her the whole time. Despite the great many friends she thought she'd had; now she turned out to be alone with no-one she could trust. And to top it off she was being forced to marry Lucius Malfoy -at the order of Voldemort, no less. He was a man who had tried to kill her twice: once when she was eleven by giving her a cursed diary. The second time being only a few months ago in the Department of Mysteries.

Ginny didn't even realise she'd started crying, but when she tasted salty tears, she tried to choke back a sob. _He's been using me. _This whole time, the months they'd spent together, it all meant nothing_._ _To hell with it all._ She felt betrayed and dirty. The whole time Dark Lord had been pulling the strings.

She couldn't bear listening to anymore of this. She had to get away. She stood on shaky legs, remained out of sight, and quietly slipped back through the darkened dungeon corridors, not hearing the rest of the conversation.

"I can't do it anymore, Draco," Blaise finally said.

"What are you talking about, Blaise?" Draco looked sharply at his old friend. "Is it true what I've been hearing? You actually have feelings for her?"

There was a prolonged pause. "...No," Blaise answered hesitantly.

"Y'sure? You don't sound so convinced."

"What's it to you, Draco?" Blaise retorted venomously, his eyes flashing.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "If you fuck up, you're going to drag me down with you. I don't have a bloody death wish."

"This has nothing to do with you, Draco." He paused in thought. "I know you have a mission, deal with your own problems."

Draco froze, his face paling considerably. "That is none of your concern, Zabini," he answered coldly, his hand tightening on his wand.

A long silence ensued before Draco finally spoke again. "Blaise, he will kill you."

"_If_ he finds out," Blaise countered.

"The Dark Lord always finds out. Listen, Blaise, just don't do anything stupid."

Draco flicked a glance at his wrist watch. It was 7:50 PM. "I've got to go." He gave Blaise one last warning look before he walked away.

He walked with quickened footsteps, striding hurriedly through the empty hallways until he made it to the deserted corridor in the dungeons where he had told Ginny to meet him. As he approached he saw the red-head already waiting, her back turned to him as she stared out the window, gazing towards the darkened school grounds. A melancholic look was chiselled on her features.

"On time for once, Weasley. You just keep on surprising me." Draco's smooth voice filtered through the corridor, his sarcasm not lost on Ginny.

Said red-head turned around once he was right behind her. She gave the Slytherin an icy glare, planting her hands on her hips.

Draco raised his hands in mock defence. "Just kidding, Weasley. No need for the death look."

Her features softened. "You're late, Malfoy," she stated with a smug expression. After all he was the one who made an issue out of her meeting him at the exact specified time.

He waved his hand in disregard. "Got held up by a couple of things." He tilted his head away from Ginny, a dark look flickering across his face. He lightly shook his head.

"Ready?" he asked.

Ginny nodded. He took a step closer to Ginny and indicated for her to follow him. They walked in an amiable silence as they entered the Slytherin common room. Ginny following behind until they finally entered the same bedroom where she had witnessed Draco andAstoriain the middle of a sex session.

She paused when they entered. "Draco," she started hesitantly. She turned to face him, wringing her fingers at her side.

Draco snapped his head up from the fireplace where it had been directed towards. "Yeah?" He looked at Ginny, a curious expression forming on his face at her hesitant tone. "What, Red?"

Tilting her head, she looked to the flames, mesmerized by the yellow and red sparks dancing in a blaze of glory. "Nothing," she answered, deciding against asking for advice from the Malfoy heir. After what she had just heard, could she really trust him? No.

Draco's silver eyes skimmed over her profile for a second before they flashed in another direction. He walked over to a dark wooden wardrobe in the corner and cracked the door open. After sifting through several articles, he selected a midnight black cloak, wrapping it around his body. "We'd better get going."

Ginny nodded and took slow steps towards Draco. She noted the perfect fluidity of the cloak. It was clearly very expensive - not that she expected any less from the Malfoys.

Draco slid out a black folder from a concealed compartment at the side of his desk and tucked it under his left arm.

Ginny was only a handful of inches away from him when his voice filtered sharply through the room.

"Stop."

Ginny froze, confused.

Draco noticed her expression. "I need to say the password," he explained. "I can't have you hearing it. Father would be pissed."

Ginny watched curiously as he inched towards the fire, tilting his head down. He cast a look backwards to confirm Ginny was a suitable distance away before he withdrew his wand, flicking it at the flames while hissing something in a language that was unrecognizable to Ginny. It sounded old, very old.

For a fleeting moment her mind flashed back to the Chamber. Parseltongue? It couldn't be. The Malfoys weren't Parselmouths ... were they?

The flames almost immediately burst into mighty neon-green sparks that seemed to positively buzz with energy. Draco turned to look at Ginny, beckoning her forwards, grinning at his handiwork.

"I'm not sure how much Father told you about Malfoy Manor and its wards, but I may as well fill you in. Firstly, only a Malfoy can enter Malfoy manor without," he paused thinking how to best word it, "something unfortunate happening to them. I'm not sure if Father has inscribed you into the wards yet, so you'll have to stay close when we Floo over." He grinned lecherously, to which Ginny glared.

"You don't want to know what'll happen if someone tries to enter Malfoy manor without the permission of a Malfoy or without a Malfoy. Secondly, only my father can directly apparate in and out of Malfoy Manor. Much to my annoyance, he won't let me do that," he trailed off bitterly.

"Thirdly, even when you are inscribed in to the wards and even once you're a Malfoy—"

Ginny grimaced at the reminder.

"—Even if you give permission for someone to enter the Manor, it won't be recognized."

Ginny stared. "What do you mean?"

"The wards at the Manor are complex and only those with permission directly from my father or me can enter the Manor, aside from other Malfoys of course. Once you have married my father you will be able to freely enter the Manor, as you will technically be a Malfoy. But as father is the head of house, only he can grant permission for non-Malfoys to enter." He appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Well, that's not strictly true." He scratched his chin. "I can actually grant permission for non-Malfoys to enter, but Father always gets annoyed when I do." He gave her a lopsided grin.

He shifted where he was standing and a sheet from the black folder that'd been tucked under his arm floated to the ground beside Ginny's feet. She leaned down to get it and was surprised when Draco snatched it roughly out of her hands.

_Why does Draco have blueprints to some sort of ... wardrobe? _

Draco tucked the paper away, flicking an almost nervous glance at Ginny. "Anyway, we'd better go," he finally said. "Take my hand, Red," he commanded, his tone less friendly than it had previously been.

Ginny disregarded his hand with disgust. "Gods, Weasley. Did you hear a word I just said? Do you have a death wish?"

Draco thought he heard something along the lines of 'Doesn't sound like a bad idea' before the red-head hesitantly curled her fingers around his, albeit limply.

"No need to look so upset. I don't bite—" he tightened his hold on her so that her hand was firmly pressed into his "—much." He grinned as he stepped into the flames.

"Wait, how does this work?"

"Pretty much the same as the Floo network. The password serves as a sort of substitute for Floo powder."

He pulled the red-head against his body. "Malfoy Manor," he drawled in a smooth, deep masculine voice, lazily throwing an arm around her.

Ginny could have sworn he winked at her as the world spun before her eyes. A mixture of flames and slick blonde hair flashed behind her irises before she felt sturdy ground beneath her feet. Her queasiness dissipated immediately.

She took a step out, following Draco, who had since removed his arms from around her. She recognized the space as one of the main drawing rooms. It was actually one of her favourite quarters, the pastel blue and soothing decor putting her at ease.

Draco strode deeper into the room and opened a small drawer, grabbing a bottle of alcohol. Taking a seat, he plucked off the cap and downed it.

_Like father, like son._

He tilted the bottle in Ginny's direction. "Want some?"

Ginny shook her head, her nose crinkling in disgust. "No thanks."

Draco shrugged, depositing the half-empty bottle on the small glass table. "Suit yourself." He stood up. "Father is away this evening but will be back tomorrow morning."

"Okay...what am I supposed to do?"

"Whatever you like, Red." With that he moved to exit the room.

"Wait!" she called to his retreating figure. "Where are you going?" she questioned.

"To my bedroom." A sly smirk curled on his features. "Would you like to join me?"

"Get stuffed," she bit out, slightly narked at his insinuation.

Ginny could hear his muffled laughter echoing as he went away. She sighed.

_Now what am I supposed to do?_

She trudged back to her room. Wait. When had she started referring to it as her room? Malfoy Manor was a house, not a home. There was a difference. The Burrow would always be her true home.

As Ginny turned a corner, she looked at a clock on a mantelpiece: 8:10 PM. It was early, but she hadn't gotten much sleep the past few nights. An early bedtime it was. As soon as she entered more familiar surroundings, she had a quick shower, slipped into a pyjama set from the cupboard and slid into bed. Her muscles relaxed instantly and before she knew it, she was in a land of blissful slumber.

Bright light filtered into the room. Ginny cracked an eye open and yawned._ How long have I slept for?_

She was about to get out of bed. When in front of her a house-elf appeared, she yelped in shock.

Resting a hand on her heart she shook her head. "Merlin's beard, why do you always do that ... Tinker?" she added, remembering the elf's name from her last visit.

"Tinker is sorry, Miss," the elf said earnestly. "What would Miss like for breakfast?"

Ginny frowned in thought before a huge grin broke out on her face. "Strawberries. Please," she added as an afterthought. She spent the rest of the morning devouring a huge bowl of fresh English strawberries.

Later in the day he decided to do a bit of exploring. As long as she stayed close to familiar surroundings, she reasoned, she would be okay.

She walked down a narrow hallway on the northern side of the manor, taking in the elaborate artwork and rich furnishings. The Manor was a palace to her. The kind of place that as a young girl she had fantasised about getting whisked away to. Turning, she made down another corridor.

She had never been down this corridor before, but then the Manor was huge so there were probably hundreds of hallways she would never see. As she travelled, a slightly ajar door caught her attention. Without actually thinking about what she was really doing, she pushed the door open, entering the room.

Immediately, she noticed how this room wasn't like a lot of the other rooms in the Manor. It had personal possessions. Someone lived here. Possible occupants she immediately could cross off her list of guesses were Draco and Lucius. It had a slight feminine touch.

She idly remembered how Lucius had told her that the north-wing of the Manor was out-of-bounds to her.

Now the smart thing to do, knowing what she did about the Manor, would be to leave immediately. But Ginny Weasley had a nasty streak of curiosity. She had always been the type of child that loved to go exploring, especially in places where she probably shouldn't have been. This was one of those occasions.

She spied the different possessions in the room: there were a variety of bright coloured jars on a shelf, next to that sat an ornate crystal bottle with a large opal set into the stopper containing what appeared to be blood. Ginny moved further into the room more dark artefacts falling into view: rusted daggers, some sort of spiked silver instruments, a staring glass eye and a black stone.

Picking up the stone she held it in her palm. It was cool against her skin but it felt … right. Ginny idly remembered that the stone was Hematite. It had mystical properties of strength and courage. They were rare stones and to be holding such a large one was uncommon. She slipped the stone into her pocket.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed that a cupboard was slightly ajar. On impulse she walked towards it, yanking it open.

Her eyes met that of a stone basin, pearly white matter swirling in its depths. _A Pensieve_, she noted with wonder.

She had only ever in actual fact seen them in books; they were really expensive and actually quite rare. Last year after her father was attacked in the Ministry, she'd gotten a glimpse of one in Dumbledore's office, but that was about the closest she'd ever been to one.

She knew she probably shouldn't, but that just fuelled her desire to do the exact opposite. Raising a hand, she dipped it into the basin and gasped in wonder at the cold, tingly feeling that floated through her veins. She was about to remove her hand when she yelped. She felt her entire body being sucked in. Everything was a haze, a swirl of thoughts and memories, desires and wishes, loves and losses, until she was roughly deposited on a hard floor.

Reaching for something solid, she tried to pull herself up and gather her bearings. She immediately took in the room; it was richly furnished but in a dark, macabre sort of way, the decor eerily reminding her of 12 Grimmauld Place. In the drawing room two girls stood at their full height. They seemed to be having an intense argument.

"I love him," a dark-haired girl implored, facing the other girl, who looked slightly older.

"He is Mudblood scum, Andy!" Bellatrix screamed, her voice hitting her sister like a lash.

Ginny gasped as realisation sunk in. _The girl is young Bellatrix Black and the other girl must be Andromeda Black, Tonks's mother._ Ginny stepped closer, intrigued.

Ginny watched as Andromeda's eyes narrowed at her older sister. "Don't you dare call him that," she yelled in defence.

"It's what he is, Andy. Filth. Scum." Bellatrix shook violently, her anger consuming her. "If you do not cease this madness, do not doubt that I will tell father."

Andromeda shook her head, resigned. "Tell him then. I do not care what he says or what any of you think. I love Teddy."

_Teddy?_ Ginny thought. Ted Tonks was Tonks's father. _Is that who they're talking about?_

Both heads of the two sisters snapped in the direction of the door as they heard it opening.

Ginny saw the look of panic flash across Andromeda's face for a second, before it turned into one of relief when recognition flowed in her face. A girl with light blonde hair entered. Ginny had only seen her once before, but there was no mistaking Narcissa Malfoy.

"What's going on?" she asked, looking quizzically between her sisters.

Andromeda Black answered first. "Nothing, Cissy. Go back to your room."

The youngest Black sister fully entered the room and Ginny noticed how, even as a young teenager, while she was still growing into her looks, she was strikingly beautiful. Her blonde hair was untied and flowed in a pale gold river past her shoulders, her bright blue eyes a contrast to the dark, shadowy eyes of her two sisters.

Narcissa turned to her eldest sibling. "Bella?" she questioned, her beautiful face creased in concern. "What's going on?"

Bella sneered at Andromeda before she turned to Narcissa. "Well, Cissy, it seems darling Andromeda has fallen in love with a filthy little Mudblood."

Narcissa's eyes widened. "No," she whispered, the shock and disgust clear in her voice.

"I'm going to marry him, Cissy," Andromeda informed her sister, almost pleading with her to understand, to accept her decision.

"Dromeda." Narcissa looked carefully at her sister. "You are already engaged."

"I do not love Lucius Malfoy."

"But he loves you, Dromeda," Narcissa answered firmly, a look of bitterness reflected in her eyes.

Ginny's eyes widened. _Lucius was supposed to marry Andromeda Black, not Narcissa. He loved Andromeda..._

"You don't know Teddy." A smile came to her face. "He is so sweet, so understanding, caring. He'll look after me. Please understand."

Narcissa's blue eyes locked onto her older sister. "You ask too much of me, Andromeda. We are from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. We are purebloods. Do not taint our line with that treacherous blood."

Bellatrix smiled cruelly. "Choose your allegiance carefully, Andromeda. There is a war coming and if you choose him, then you are no sister of ours."

Andromeda paused for one painful moment. "I'm sorry, Bella."

"So be it." Ginny watched as Bellatrix took out her walnut wand and blasted her sister's name off the family tapestry that beautifully adorned the far wall.

Suddenly, Ginny felt herself being wrenched out of the memory. The Black sisters became a swirl of fog as she was pulled away. The last thing she saw was the sad look in Andromeda's eyes before Ginny was back in the Manor.

A figure was standing behind her, a wand sharply jabbing into her back. Ginny turned, coming face-to-face with Bellatrix Lestrange.

Ginny's eyes snapped to the other witch in horror. _Damn. Fuck. Merlin._

"Well, look what we have here," the dark, feminine voice murmured. "Enjoy the memory?" Bellatrix questioned, a dark glint in her eyes.

Ginny gave her a look of reproach. "How could you turn away your own sister?"

"Andromeda chose a filthy mudblood. She wasn't worthy of the Black name anymore."

Bellatrix took some steps back and tucked the wand away. The red-head stayed deathly silent. Bellatrix Lestrange was notorious as a 'curse now, ask questions later' sort of person.

The older woman cast a melancholic look at the Pensieve. "My blood-traitor sister was supposed to marry Lucius Malfoy. My father and Abraxas Malfoy had drawn up a marriage contract promising a Black daughter to the Malfoy heir."

Ginny nodded, unsure why Bellatrix was telling her any of this. To be completely honest, she was surprised she hadn't been _Crucio_'d already.

"When dear old Andy ran off with her dirty Mudblood, Narcissa had to marry Lucius. Much to her delight, of course. She'd obsessed over him for years. That decision turned out to lead to her demise, in the end," Bellatrix trailed off bitterly.

Ginny's ears perked up. _What does that mean? Was Lucius responsible for his wife's death?_ It would make sense. Ginny knew full well what he was capable of doing; not to mention, he had turned livid when she had mentioned Narcissa Malfoy.

The female Death Eater looked at her reflection in a mirror on her dressing table. "I don't know why Cissy was surprised that Lucius didn't love her. He was always cold after what Andy did to him."

The mad witch seemed to withdraw for a second, humming to herself. "Why you? Why a Weasley?" she asked Ginny, finally turning her attention back to the young lady.

When the red-head didn't reply, the dark-haired woman continued her tone predatory, yet…. Curious. "Tell me, Ginny Weasley, what is it that makes you so special?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know," the Death Eater continued conversationally, "in the Department of Mysteries I could have killed you many times. We all had more than enough chances to."

Ginny took a step back. "So why didn't you?"

"You don't have any idea how special you are?" she questioned, though it sounded more like she was talking to herself. She seemed to withdraw from her thoughts before looking square at Ginny. "Do you?"

Ginny looked away, unable to hold contact with the dark eyes. Eyes which had probably seen the light extinguish from a vast number of her victims' eyes. Ginny shuddered at the mere thought.

"What do you have?" Bellatrix looked the red-haired girl up and down, a slither of envy in her eyes. "My blood is as pure as yours, yet I am not good enough," she whispered herself, her voice manic.

The female Death Eater appeared calmly thoughtful, lost again in her own musings. She slid her dragon-core walnut wand from her sleeve and fingered it lightly.

Ginny stood tall. "If you're going to kill me, then get it over with," Ginny told filling with Gryffindor courage.

Bellatrix looked at her and laughed. It was a loud and biting and Ginny almost winced. "Kill you?" She cackled. "Little Ginny Weasley, the reason why you didn't die that night in the Department of Mysteries was because the Dark Lord would have slain anyone who attempted a harmful spell at you," she hissed.

The red-head took a step back. _The woman is unstable. _Ginny realised how the initial outward calmness was a façade. It was her voice that betrayed her, a voice that was desperate to be revered by her master, by Voldemort.

Bella seemed to calm her laughter and looked back to Ginny before breaking into another fit of giggles. "Kill you, ha," she managed between gasps of mirth "Ha-ha!" she cackled wildly, her eyes losing focus.

Ginny frowned, taking several steps away, slowly inching towards the door and escape. Azkaban had certainly wilted the mind of Bellatrix Lestrange. She was as mad as they came.

Ginny needed to get out of this room. Right now. Bellatrix was unpredictable, and she didn't like the way the other witch was looking at her like ... prey. Her dark eyes made Ginny uncomfortable; it was like they could see into her very core.

"Why does he want me alive?" she questioned, although she feared she already knew the answer to that. The promise that Tom Riddle had made to her when she was eleven years old was still ringing in her ears. _You will never get away from me, Ginny. You will always be mine. Always._

The door suddenly opened, and Lucius Malfoy walked in, giving Bellatrix a hard look. "I think Ginevra has had enough of your company, _Bella_," Lucius said icily.

He held his arm out to Ginny. "Come."

Ginny hesitated for a second before taking it. He was the lesser evil.

Lucius wrapped his arm firmly across her back and steered her out the room. Before he closed the door, he gave Bellatrix one lingering, warning look.

He smirked when he saw Bellatrix blanch. She was right to fear him.

He led Ginny into one of the smaller living rooms that was decorated in pale beiges and soft chocolate colours. He took a seat on one of the sofas and Ginny followed suit, choosing the seat opposite him instead of beside him. Lucius noticed this and smirked.

He snapped his fingers and almost immediately a house-elf appeared, ready to serve his master. Lucius ordered a glass of wine and a moment later it appeared in his hand, the red contents swirling in a whirlpool of motion.

Ginny watched as he emptied the contents. "You shouldn't drink so much," Ginny noted, not really paying attention to what she was saying.

Lucius looked up, amused. "And pray tell, why is that?" Lucius asked as he waited intently for her answer.

"It's bad for your health," she answered simply.

Lucius raised an eyebrow at that, clearly not satisfied. "And since when, Ginevra, did you start caring about my health?"

Ginny remained quiet, at which Lucius laughed. He set the glass atop a small cylindrical side table and winked at her.

Ginny furrowed her eyebrow in thought at his comment before looking directly at Lucius. "Who exactly is coming to the ball tonight?" She asked in an attempt to change the subject.

Lucius saw right through her ploy but answered anyway. "I think the question you should be asking is who is not coming, because just about everyone important will be attending."

Ginny looked at him blankly, waiting for him to elaborate. If she was going to be in a pit of snakes, the least she could know is which snakes would be there.

"Will _he_ be there?"

"Who is he?" Lucius demanded his tone having noticeably darkened.

"You know, _him ... _You Know Who," she said quietly, the latter bit whispered.

Lucius let out a bark of laughter. "No. The Dark Lord doesn't do Halloween parties, Ginny."

Ginny glared at his condescending tone but Lucius didn't seem to realise.

Lucius coughed, composing himself before continuing. "But the Minister of Magic will be here, as will various senior Ministry officials, not to mention the Notts, Parkinsons, Greengrasses, Goyles, Crabbes,Flints, Yaxleys and many others."

At the last name Ginny froze her face dropping. Yaxley. He was the one who had arrested her brothers.

Lucius caught her expression. "You need not be so worried. You are here as my fiancée. No-one will lay a hand on you. I assure you.

"Besides, it is a masquerade ball so you won't be able to see anyone's face anyway." He paused remembering something. "You will find your dress and jewellery in your bedroom. You are to meet me at the top of the main staircase at 8:00 PM sharp. Understand?"

Ginny nodded. "Of course," she murmured absently, to which Lucius smiled handsomely, pleased with her answer.

Her mind was still on her brothers. She was almost certain Lucius was behind their capture but if she angered him again, who knew what he would do?

"Lucius," Ginny started hesitantly, her voice strangely light and quiet.

Lucius looked to her in interest. "Yes, Ginevra?"

"My -" she paused, trying to find the right words, "my brothers were captured by the Ministry. They did not do what the Aurors say they did."

There was a long silence. Ginny wasn't sure if he had even heard what she had said, but she wasn't going to repeat it.

"Ginevra, I'm not an easy man to be with." Lucius took a step closer to the red-head. "I won't deny that I have a vicious temper."

His brow creased slightly, almost in concern as he looked at a light bruise that had formed on his fiancée's arm. "If I hurt you, I regret it."

Ginny remembered how he'd been so rough when he'd come to Hogwarts after she had kissed Blaise. She blinked slowly before nodding. This was the closest to an apology that she would ever get.

"I can be good to you, Ginevra. There is a war coming and as long as you are with me, no harm will ever come to you."

She had no idea what to say to that so she mumbled a pathetic, "Okay."

Lucius nodded, a small, genuine smile on his face before he took his leave.

**X**

It was many hours later that Ginny stood at the top of the large staircase, nervously tugging at the hem of her dress. She spied all the people in the Ball Room and felt her face whiten, a feeling of anxiety pooling in her stomach.

She stiffened as she felt a body slide behind her, the intoxicating scent of expensive cologne invading her senses.

"You look stunning," Lucius whispered in his velvety voice.

Ginny couldn't help the small smile that flickered on her lips. She had seen her reflexion and had to agree that she did look good tonight.

Lucius dipped his hand into his pocket and handed Ginny a simplistically beautiful mask. "It should be a crime to hide your radiant beauty, but this _is_ a masquerade ball."

Ginny felt blood rush into her cheeks at his compliment and hastily grabbed the mask, glad for the chance to hide her embarrassment. Lucius chuckled, the dark seductive timbre wrapping around Ginny.

"Shall we?" He extended his upper limb, eyes looking pointedly at the crowd of guests below.

Ginny took his support. A crease formed on her face as she looked at him. "How come you're not wearing a mask?"

Lucius looked at her, the characteristic pompous Malfoy expression etched onto his features. "I'm a Malfoy," he answered, as if he had actually answered her question. _Why do Lucius and Draco think they can answer everything with that excuse?_

"But I'm going to be a Malfoy, so why do I have to wear this mask?"

Lucius paused, turning his full attention to Ginny, a handsome, genuine smile hijacking his features. For a moment it looked like he was seeing Ginny in a completely new and different light.

"Yes, you will be a Malfoy. I'm glad to see you're finally accepting your situation, Ginevra."

Ginny sighed mentally. She'd phrased that badly. She was about to reply when unexpectedly Lucius lowered his lips, giving her a soft, chaste kiss on her cheek. She knew it was wrong that she didn't hate it, but it felt nice.

Lucius inhaled her scent, "Be good tonight and I will see to it that your brothers are released."

_So he had heard. _

"I will," she answered softly, her eyes falling on him. He was wearing a well-fitted black suit, looking sinfully handsome in it.

"Good." Lucius nodded and snaked his arm around her waist as they descended the staircase. All eyes fell to them and Ginny felt herself blush under her mask. She felt like every inch of her was being scrutinised.

Lucius stopped when he reached the bottom of the stairs, Ginny also halting at his side. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he greeted, his voice booming across the hall. "Welcome to the annual Malfoy Halloween Ball. First of all, I want to thank you all for coming."

There were cheers and greetings from all the guests around the room. Some people shifted their gaze to Draco, who Ginny noticed was standing at the back of the room, a champagne flute in hand. He like his father wasn't wearing a mask.

"I would like to introduce my fiancée, Ginevra," Lucius's smooth voice filtered through the room. At this all eyes shifted from Lucius, sliding to Ginny. The red-head shrunk under the harsh gazes.

Lucius whispered for her to remove her mask and she did so, albeit slowly. Once she had finally managed to completely remove it, she smiled at the large crowd of aristocrats and high society, unsure what else to do.

People clapped again and Ginny blushed. "Enjoy," Lucius's dark voice drawled to the crowd. The crowd dissipated from around the staircase.

As they walked together, music began to filter throughout the room. Lucius began greeting guests and introducing Ginny. As he spoke to a tall be-speckled man Lucius absently ran his fingers along the curve of Ginny's waist and hip. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to the man.

"I heard you were engaged to a Weasley," a female voice said and Lucius and Ginny both turned towards the voice. A lady stood behind them, dressed in a knee-length little black dress. She had dark hair hanging in loose waves but her eyes were silver—the same silver that was characteristic of Malfoys. "Is that blood feud over then?" she asked curiously as she glanced at Ginny with a genuine smile.

She wasn't old, nor young. But Ginny noted how she was very pretty, her features very Malfoy-looking. She held herself well, a proper high society woman.

"Natalia," Lucius greeted cordially as he kissed her on the cheek. Ginny stood rigidly, unsure who this woman was. She felt her insides do a somersault. Her eyes automatically snapped down to the floor.

"It's good to see you," Lucius whispered to Natalia, who nodded her head and smirked, her long silver earrings swaying as her head moved. "And you, Cousin. It's always a pleasure," she replied, her voice smooth and regal.

_Oh. She's his cousin. That explains the resemblance._

Natalia turned her attention to Ginny, scrutinising her. Ginny almost flinched away as she felt Natalia's cold fingers tilt her head upwards.

"Let me have a look at you then." She smiled, apparently pleased with what she saw.

Ginny was unsure what to say when, unexpectedly, the woman kissed her on the cheek, hugging her as if she were an old friend.

Lucius looked at the two females, apparently amused.

"I'm Natalia. It's good to finally meet you."

"Ginny," she replied, her mouth dry. She coughed awkwardly.

"Yes, I know. My, you are very pretty, aren't you?" she noted, turning back to Lucius. "I'll be glad when this union puts an end to all that nonsense of the past."

Ginny's eyes went wide at 'union' but she didn't say anything.

Natalia tossed her hair over her shoulder; caught Ginny's alarmed expression and winked at her. "I'll catch you two later," she said as she walked away.

Lucius rolled his eyes after her. "You'll get used to that," he told Ginny. "Natalia," he paused, "she is one of a kind."

"I don't think she liked me very much," Ginny told him honestly. Lucius handed her a flute of shimmery, pale yellow liquid: champagne.

"Nonsense," he laughed. "She smiled, that means she liked you." Ginny took a sip of the drink, enjoying the wet and cold taste that had a distinct grape flavour running through it. It was refreshing.

"I'd steer clear though." He looked down at Ginny. "Ever since little Kira grew up, Natalia been looking for a new doll to dress up."

At Ginny's horrified expression Lucius let out a bark of laughter, handing Ginny another glass of champagne and vanishing her empty one. He steered her towards a crowd of important-looking people.

Lucius worked the room, networking with all the important individuals, talking to just about everyone and introducing Ginny to the highest of the high society. Ginny was nervous at first, intimidated by the people she was being introduced to. As the evening wore on, however, she decided she liked watching Lucius.

He adapted. One minute he was greatly interested in wizarding transport and five minutes later he was the lead activist in preserving endangered dragons. Ginny was in awe. He knew exactly which buttons to push with which people. He knew what to say to get what he wanted.

Ginny came to realise just how much influence Lucius Malfoy had. He played the room with ease, changing facts about himself, asking after his guests' family members. It was amazing to watch.

With the Minister of Magic, he spoke seriously, pledging to back Rufus Scrimgeour at the next election and to support his new regulations. In another conversation not even ten minutes later, he criticised the Minister's plans while speaking with the leader of an opposing political party.

Ginny stayed quiet most of the time, making greetings and false pleasantries when people's attention turned to her. She was obviously doing something right, as every now and then Lucius would give her a warm smile.

Ginny bit her lip. He was a particularly proficient liar. That was quite concerning. He could lie to her without her without her even knowing it.

Much later in the evening, Ginny found that they were standing in a far corner of the room, having already greeted nearly everyone in the room. Lucius cast her a look. "What?" he asked, in response to the fact that she had been staring at him for more than five minutes straight.

"You're a good liar," she told him with a frown.

Lucius flicked a look at her, taking a large sip of alcohol.

"It's networking, Darling," he answered with a scoff, looking down at her condescendingly. He offered Ginny another drink. "It's important to garner favours with all the right people. You never know when you'll need to call in a favour."

Ginny nodded at what he was saying. As she reached out her hand to accept the offered drink, Lucius languidly caressed her knuckles with the soft tips of his fingers.

"Malfoys are powerful people. We have money, but none of that matters if you don't have the intelligence to use it."

Ginny listened absently, her eyes drifting longingly to the dancing couples.

"Can we dance?" she interrupted, her wide, brown eyes hopeful.

"No," Lucius answered shortly.

"Why not?" Ginny whined. "Can't you dance?"

Lucius seemed to find that funny. "I am an exquisite dancer. I just choose not to."

Ginny pouted, upset.

"Come," Lucius ordered Ginny to him, holding her body as a respectable distance like the debonair aristocrat he was. "Don't be upset." A new light entered Lucius' eyes. "You did well tonight," he remarked.

Ginny smiled at the compliment. She had been trying and it seemed to have paid off.

He was in a good mood; there would be no better time to press the subject. Ginny returned his gaze. "My brothers...?" She queried, biting her lip.

"Leave it with me," Lucius answered with assurance. "I will see to their release."

Ginny smiled at him. A full, genuine smile. Maybe Lucius Malfoy wasn't all bad. Lucius pointed to the row of chairs set up next to the buffet table and Ginny walked over to them, taking a seat, watching from the corner of her eyes as Lucius continued to network.

A new song filtered fluidly through the ballroom, the lights slowly darkening. Ginny's gaze flickered across to Lucius dejectedly. She wanted to dance. She was just about to re-fill her empty glass when a man came to a halt in front of her.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice soft.

Ginny tilted her head; he was wearing a mask so Ginny couldn't tell who he was. She flicked a glance towards Lucius. He was watching her. She was about to tell the man no, when Lucius nodded his assent to her. Ginny smiled prettily, thankful he was allowing her to dance with another man, but also surprised that he had given his permission.

She turned back to the stranger. "Yes," she answered him politely. "I'd be honoured to." The man lightly took Ginny's hand, pulling her up from her seat, steering her to the centre of the room where most of the dancing couples were.

Ginny didn't know why but she felt she could trust this man. She didn't know who he was but something about his demeanour, his voice, put her at ease. This man wasn't out to kill her. She was sure she had met him somewhere before. He just seemed so... familiar.

"You look lovely, Ms Weasley," the man complimented.

Ginny felt herself blush ever so slightly, and she turned her head away shyly. "Thanks."

They danced to the music, their movements chaste. It was like dancing with her father. "Who are you?" she finally questioned. He twirled her around, his movements quickening at the chorus of the music.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," the man answered cryptically.

Her eyes fixed to his face, but his mask betrayed none of his features. "Try me," she quipped.

The man laughed. It wasn't mocking or sneering. It was a laugh a parent would give to a stubborn child.

"I see her stubbornness wasn't lost on you," he whispered, as the tempo slowed down.

_'Her'? Whom was he talking about?_

Ginny furrowed her brow, "What did you say?" she asked him.

He swayed her gently and looked up, shaking his head. "Nothing."

The man pulled her close so that his lips were below her ear. "Ginevra Weasley, you are in a dangerous situation."

Ginny froze at his words.

"Keep dancing," the man whispered urgently. "I don't want anyone to notice."

Ginny acquiesced and continued dancing.

"You have to be careful now. Trust no-one here. Not the Malfoys, nobody. Keep your eyes open. The Dark Lord has plans for you. Be careful. He will come for you."

The music came to an end and the man slipped away. Ginny watched him go. She saw a strand of red hair poking out from the side of his mask.

Red hair was rare in the wizarding world. It was synonymous to few pureblood families. Who was the man? Why had he warned her?

She turned, trying to find the man but he'd vanished. Lucius walked towards her. She returned his smile.

"Who was that?" she asked him, breathing heavily from all the dancing.

Lucius furrowed a brow. "I'm not sure," he answered in an uncharacteristic instance where he did not know the answer.

The music started up again, to a tune Ginny recognized as one of her mother's favourites. In fact Molly had told Ginny once that this was the song she had danced to at her wedding.

Lucius glanced at Ginny's nostalgic expression. "Let's dance?" He tilted his head, indicating the other people dancing in the room.

Ginny's eyes snapped to mercury ones. _Did I hear right? _"I thought you didn't dance."

"I will make an exception tonight." He took her hand softly in his larger one. Leaning down he pressed his lips against her neck. Ginny felt butterflies in her stomach and leaned in to him. "After all," he whispered huskily, "you looked absolutely sinful dancing earlier."

Ginny was spun on the marble flooring and then her body was pulled flush against Lucius's. Ginny had to admit he was an outstanding dancer. He moved with light, fluid steps, sweeping her across the dance floor in a show of handsome masculine prowess.

The tempo slowed down and the pace of their dancing slowed with it. Lucius led her off the main dance floor to a dimly lit corner where guests could not disturb them. In the seductive darkness of the shadows he held her hard against him, her supple breasts pressed into his well-sculptured chest.

The soft melodious tune continued and he tilted his head down, angling his lips towards hers, but hesitating as his eyes fell to her breasts spilling from the corset of her gown.

All the reasons why she shouldn't kiss him briefly flicked through her thoughts_ He'sa Malfoy. He's a Death Eater. He's evil. He's a murder. He's probably using me. He's forcing me to marry him. He's acting on Voldemort's orders. He's against everything I believe in, everything I've ever been taught is right._

She pushed her ruminations to the back of her mind.

_Maybe I'm wrong. I thought Blaise was the exact opposite of Lucius Malfoy, but apparently they have a lot more in common than I once believed._

Anger. She felt it burn deep and fiercely within her. Anger at Blaise. He'd lied to her. She flicked a glance to Lucius, a notion in her mind that she had contemplated several times recently: _Maybe Lucius Malfoy wasn't all bad._

He was going to help her brothers. He hadn't hurt her ... much. Maybe she should give him a chance, take a leap of faith.

She felt one of his hands ascend to her neck where he stroked it with languid movements. His other hand was still wrapped around her waist.

If she had to marry him, the least she could do was try to make it work. In the long run it would make things easier for both of them.

Lucius' hand dipped, brushing ever so slightly against her clothed nipples. They hardened and Ginny almost moaned out loud.

His head dipped and Lucius softly pressed his lips to hers. She leaned in, returning the kiss with vigour. His tongue pushed for entrance and she opened willingly, wanting only to feel more of this addictive taste. He pushed the kiss further, getting rougher, more passionate. Ginny bit his lip, pouring her passion into the kiss.

Finally, after what seemed like a century, he pulled away. Ginny was breathing hard, her cheeks were flushed pink and her hair looked ruffled.

She looked thoroughly snogged.

Lucius looked at her intensely, almost adoringly. "You have pleased me tonight, Ginevra, more than I thought you would." With that he pulled the red-head, who was still fuzzy from being kissed, closer to his body. When she was pressed up against him, his eyes darked with desire, he subtly began to grind his semi-formed erection into her core. Ginny leaned in, craving the need to feel more, her senses still muddled by their earlier kiss.

Neither noticed the young man who had been watching the entire episode, his eyes narrowed in rage and pain as he watched his girl with another man.

**X**

It was much later in the evening. The Malfoy Manor Halloween ball was drawing to a close, a few guests still remained, some who had had way too much to drink.

Ginny fanned her face with her hands, trying to cool herself down. She'd had a good night, she didn't want to admit it because she felt guilty everytime she did, but it was true. It was the first time in a long time that she had really enjoyed herself.

Her thoughts flashed to a handsome blonde. Lucius. She felt a nervous flutter in her stomach when she though of him ... of what they did. Her cheeks began to heat.

Walking out of the room she made to get some air, muttering some false pleasantries to guests as she left. Turning down a small corridor she walked down out onto the balcony, she froze. A figure was already there, their back facing Ginny.

She retreated, uncomfortable with being alone, with any of Lucius' guests. Besides if they tried to hurt her Lucius wasn't nearby. Lucius had left for his study a while ago, the Yaxley guy had gone with him.

She was about to cross the threshold leading away from the balcony when the figure spoke.

"Ginny." The voice cut through her thoughts stopping her from leaving.

_Blaise,_ she recognized.

She stood, her legs frozen rooting her to the spot. This was the first she'd seen of him since she'd overheard his conversation with Draco. Her eyes narrowed, he couldn't be trusted.

Slowly, very slowly Blaise turned around.

Her eyes went wide in horror. "Blaise," she whispered in shock. There were painful gashes on his face, one running from his forehead to his chin. _Who would do something like that?_ "Oh my. Blaise what happened?"

His voice was cold and clipped. "You see, Ginny." He raised a hand gesturing to the scar lines on his face. "This is what he is capable of."

She didn't need to ask to know 'he' meant Lucius.

Ginny took a step forward. Whe she saw her boyfriend hurt, that was all she could think of. Her anger at Blaise vanished, replaced with worry for him. Tears filled Ginny's eyes. "Blaise" she whispered again as she ran smoothly towards him. "Merlin!" She gasped as she inspected the ragged scars on his face. "This is my fault."

Blaise looked at the red-head, his gaze unsympathetic. "This was done by the man you've agreed to marry," he scoffed.

Ginny glowered, anger rising in her at his tone. "You know as well as I know Blaise. I have no choice. How many times do I have to remind you of that?" she finished, her voice having risen several notches.

"Are you going to try and tell me that you had no choice in kissing him as well?" he asked darkly.

Ginny's eyes widened, until she remembered why she had been angry at Blaise in the first place. "No." She shook her head. "I willingly kissed him." She narrowed her eyes at his expression. She wanted to hurt him as he had hurt her. "He's actually quite a good kisser; you could take some tips from him."

She almost took her words back when she saw the flash of pain in Blaise's face, but it quickly morphed into a look of venom.

"So you want to marry him. Fine." He chuckled humourlessly. "To think I actually gave a damn about you. Have you just been lying to me this whole time?" he scoffed, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Me?" she screamed, her face flushed in anger. She jabbed her finger at him. "You're the one who has been lying to me!" She looked at him. "I know, Blaise." Her words were spoken with resignation. "I know," she repeated softly.

Blaise looked back, unflustered. "What do you know, Gin?" he asked disinterestedly.

"I know you're a Death Eater."

Blaise's profile suddenly sharpened. "Who told you that?" He took calculated steps towards the red-head. "Lucius Malfoy?" he questioned. He stopped only a handful of inches from her. "He was lying."

Ginny shook her head. "How can you stand there and still lie to me?" Tears started to blur her vision. "I heard you talking to Draco." Her eyes snapped to his arm, lingering on where she knew the mark was. "I saw it."

Blaise looked away, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

"Blaise," Ginny started carefully, her anger extinguished for now. "Tell me it's not true," she pleaded, needing to know that the man whom she thought she loved was not a deceitful, two-faced liar.

The dark-haired boy ran a hand through his silken strands and sighed. He didn't know how to say this; she wouldn't understand.

"I'm sorry."

Ginny gulped back shock, pain, anger. She turned away, unable to look at him. "How long?" she whispered, a feeling of betrayal rife in her voice.

"It doesn't matter," Blaise replied. He took small steps towards Ginny, placing his hand on her arm. "I can't explain everything now, but I will." He sighed again.

"Ginny, I love you. I always have. I know you're angry at me right now. Hell, you should be but you have to trust me now." He dipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small, black velvet box. A boyish grin came to his face as he held it. "You told me once that you loved me. Trust me, Ginny. Trust in us."

Ginny looked at the box curiously, a feeling of trepidation sinking into her. "Blaise," she said carefully, "what is in there?" She nodded her head towards the box.

Blaise just smiled, before sinking to one knee in front of her. The red-head's eyes went wide in shock, hoping the man in front of her wasn't going to do what she thought he was going to do. She blinked, but this was not part of her imagination. She couldn't wish it away.

At an agonisingly slow speed, Blaise gently opened the small box.

A beautiful platinum band embedded with one perfectly cut diamond rested in the centre, several sapphire gems embellishing it.

It was … breathtaking. Utterly beautiful.

Blaise took her hand softly, and Ginny felt herself relax slightly under his soothing touch. He opened his mouth but Ginny wished she could cover her ears, not wanting to hear or acknowledge the words he would speak.

He smiled charmingly. "Ginevra Molly Weasley, will you marry me?" he whispered in a perfectly even, velvety voice.

Ginny's breathing suddenly became erratic, her eyes darting around in shock. She shook her head slowly, wetness trailing down her cheeks.

Blaise was still on the ground, the ring held out in front of her. She took a step back.

"No," she whispered. She almost buckled but Blaise caught her easily, steadying her. He tried to hide his crushed features, the pain rolling off him in giant waves.

"No," she stated, louder than before. "I'm, sorry. I really am, but I can't."

Blaise closed the few inches between them and placed his hands on her shoulders, staring deeply into her eyes. "Ginny, the only way out of marrying Malfoy is if you marry me instead." He cupped her cheek. "Think about it carefully. I am not forcing you into anything, Ginny. This way you have a choice."

Tears now streamed freely down Ginny's face. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can't be with you."

"So you'd rather be with Malfoy?" he asked, a touch of ice entering his tone.

Ginny shivered at the tenor of his voice. She shook her head. "No. You know that," she added in a quiet voice.

"Do I? Tell me, Ginny. Explain it to me, because I don't understand."

Ginny bit her lip and hesitated. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in deeply. "I'm sixteen years old, Blaise. I should be going to parties and having fun. Merlin, I shouldn't be thinking about marriage ... I didn't want any of this, it's all just too much ... I-I can't."

She looked up and stared straight into his forest green eyes, those eyes which she could loose herself in, those eyes which she had fallen in love with, the eyes which were a stark contrast to Harry's."You want the truth? I'll give it to you. I don't trust you, Blaise. I did, but not anymore," Ginny felt her heart tearing into little pieces.

She wiped a tear that was trailing down her pale cheek. "You lied to me; you've been lying to me. I can't be with you."

Blaise's mask finally cracked and a crease of pain blemished his face. "Ginny, please..."

"No," Ginny stated firmly. "We are over." When she noticed Blaise's expression her resolve began to melt. She pushed back tears "... I am truly sorry."

With that she walked away from Blaise, literally walking out of his life. It was over for them.

Blaise stood, staring after Ginny, his heart in pieces. As he watched the only girl he'd ever had feelings for walk away, he felt pain, rejection, and anger, thick rage pouring out of him in a hideous wave. He turned and with a look of determination punched the stone wall, again and again, harder and harder, the pain helping to numb his feelings. He kept going, right and left, harder and harder, again and again, until his hands were bloody: red, ripped and raw.

He'd risked a lot for Ginny Weasley. Too much. And now she'd rejected him, so it was all for nothing. He would have turned sides for her. He'd made plans for them, and if anyone found out, his life would be as good as over. A mad gleam flickered in his eyes.

She had wanted a way out and he had given her one.

Blaise Zabini vowed he would never let anyone hurt him this much again. He stormed out of the room with new determination.

Once the room was completely empty, a cloaked figure slipped out from behind a statue where he had been hiding. Draco Malfoy stared at the doorway where Blaise had just left. He'd heard the entire conversation.

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**Author Note: **Thankyou **DZAuthor** for betaing this chapter.

Thanks to bosnianbeauty, Lover of Fantasy, Inkfire, DracoluverAlanna, Vue Lorner, whatisfake, Red Writer, DZAuthor AKA DZMom, TimeBringsTruth, PurplePrincess77, Slinkiee, tbird1965, Nina, Donnie-Darko, Jawsome, uh. invisibleindiekid and Laurenmlbc for reviewing the last chapter. You are all awesome!

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**Chapter Ten: Author Note**

Hi guys,

Sorry but there is no new chapter. I just wanted to let you all know that I will be closing down my account and deleting all my stories. If anyone wishes to re-publish any of my works and/or continue working on any of them, send me a PM and I then essentially my work will be yours. So, if you want any of my stories to re-publish on your account PM me. First come first served.

Also, thanks for all the lovely words of encouragement and support you have all offered over the years. I am touched that so many of you have enjoyed reading my stories.

Thanks.

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_**Editor's Note** _

_Thank you for reading this archived, _unedited_ chapter of **Callidora-Malfoy**'s story._

_I have enjoyed being a beta reader for and editing this incomplete story, Forced into Darkness. Perhaps you, like me, were spell-bound by the lyrical, descriptive writing and the creativity of the plot. That's why I have preserved this abandoned version, since I felt it would be a great loss if it was permanently deleted from the Fan Fiction dot net archive. If you have any criticism of my editing or my grammatical corrections, please let me know.  
_

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THIS STORY WILL NOT BE UPDATED; however, the story is up for adoption. I have not received from Callidora-Malfoy the name of an author who was granted adoption.

When the adoption is finalized, I will attempt to send a PM to those who have "Followed" the story. I may choose to write a version of this story in the future; there are too few Lucius fan fictions to read, in my opinion.


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